


Things Fall Apart: Viktor and Hermione Year 1

by Chanel19



Series: Fallen [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:08:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 102,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28375962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chanel19/pseuds/Chanel19
Summary: This part of the AU series Fallen is based on two main premises: What if Hermione didn't remove her parents memories of her and send them to Australia? And what if Harry wasn't the only one significantly injured in the war. Tangentially, what if Fred and Dobby didn't die? Despite the title, Ron has a significant role in this story.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Viktor Krum
Series: Fallen [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2056233
Comments: 16
Kudos: 17





	1. Two Ships

Hermione left the Ministry library late on Christmas Eve. Snow flurries swirled through the air. Her stomach growled and she realized she'd skipped breakfast and forgotten to eat lunch, not unusual when she was upset. Seven days ago, she'd left Ron. He'd told her to go. He'd told her he was done with her, but he was drunk at the time and she'd thought he probably didn't meant it.

He'd been drinking more since the war ended, but once they'd moved out of the Burrow and into their own flat above Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, he'd really increased his intake. She understood why. He was still recovering from his injuries at the end of the war and it was taking longer than the healers had expected. He had persistent pain from the deep scar on his jaw, but that wasn't the worst problem. The real issue was that he wasn't clear-headed and his magic remained stubbornly depleted, rendering him effectively a Muggle. Fred and George had offered him a job stocking shelves at the shop to get him out of the house and help him feel useful, which had worked initially. She and Ron had fun setting up the flat and it was so nice initially to finally have some privacy, but as the months wore on and Ron still wasn't better, he started to complain bitterly about busy work and charity. The bitterness fueled the drinking and the drinking fueled the anger, but she knew it was temporary. He just needed to finish healing, restore his magic, and he'd be fine. They would be fine.

Then Death Eaters murdered her parents out of nothing more than spite. The war was long over. That sudden act of extreme violence coupled with the crushing loss cut her completely adrift in a sea of grief and there was no one around to throw her a line or to pull her back in. Harry was still recovering from his own end of war experiences and Ginny was completely committed to helping him. Ron spent all his time at the bottom of a bottle and no one else seemed to notice her slide.

She'd tried talking to Ron, but he couldn't see past his own situation to understand hers, so she stopped talking. Guilt and grief and rage swelled inside her all the time, making her feel completely out of control. Ron's behavior only made it worse, so she avoided him, which wasn't difficult since she was in the trails to become an Unspeakable and he spent all his spare time at the pub. Toward the end, it seemed like the only place they still connected was in the bedroom, but then even that became very strained. He'd gotten quite rough with her a few times and seemed to have lost sight of her needs entirely. He hadn't touched her in anything close to a loving manner in quite a while. The last night they were together things between them had spiraled so completely out of control, she'd been shocked to realized her wand was in her hand. When he'd told her to bugger off, she'd thought she probably ought to. They both needed to cool down. Besides, she'd thought if she packed up and left him, it might dawn on him that he really was out of control.

As she walked back to parents' house the dread of another night alone began to creep up her spine. Even though she'd redone the rooms where they had been murdered, staying at the house alone was hard, but she didn't have a job yet, so she didn't have anywhere else to go and couldn't afford to stay in a hotel. The trials for becoming an Unspeakable were over, but unfortunately, she'd been warned that it would likely take a month or more before they notified her if she'd made the cut. Odds were against it, years went by that the Department of Mysteries didn't hire anyone. In the meantime, she'd spent every day in the Ministry library. The books were a comfort and reading helped shut out the mess of her personal life. Perhaps foolishly, she'd expected Ron to come to his senses by now and reach out to her, so they could reconcile and she could go home. Since that hadn't happened, it looked increasingly like he'd meant what he'd said. He was done with her. The thought left her gutted and each passing hour on her own was harder than the one before. 

Nights were the hardest. She had hours to fill with no one but herself for company and it was causing her to have some very dark thoughts. She felt like no one would care or even notice if she wasn't around anymore. After all, Ron wasn't the only one who hadn't reached out to her. She often found herself contemplating ways she might die, sometimes accidental, sometimes on purpose. Increasingly, she found herself wishing she had just died in that hallway at Hogwarts. At least she would have died feeling loved. She had friends then and family. But as she headed down the street toward The Leaky Cauldron, she had no one. All she had was the Department of Mysteries and magic. She'd wait until she heard about the job. She couldn't die without knowing whether she'd made Unspeakable. She could hold out until she heard. If she made it, she'd have something to do, something to live for. If she didn't make the cut...well, maybe she'd make a different sort of cut. A month seemed like an eternity to live in the kind of gutted agony she was experiencing. Christmas was tomorrow. She could hold out until Christmas. Perhaps Ron was waiting for the holiday to make some sort of grand gesture and bring her home. 

She'd sent him a Christmas card by owl post a few days ago but hadn't received one in return. She'd only gotten two - one from Harry, in which he wished her a Happy Christmas and then implored her to sort out this business with Ron, and one from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, which just said Happy Christmas and nothing more. Part of her wanted to send Harry a Howler to tell him to go sort out Ron. She'd tried and failed. There was something very wrong with Ron and she couldn't fix it. She couldn't fix anything. She was worthless.

The shops were all closed early for Christmas Eve. The Leaky Cauldron was open for through traffic but the bar and kitchen were closed, which ruined her plan to just pick up a takeaway to eat at home. She'd intended to Apparate after she got something to eat but her stomach growled when she went through the back of the pub and into Muggle London. Since she didn't have much to eat at the house, she decided to stop in a Waitrose that was still open on the corner. Part of her wondered, if she was going to be dead by Boxing Day, what was the point of eating but another part of her screamed for her not to be ridiculous, that she wouldn't go through with it and to just get some food. Increasingly, she felt at war with herself: half of her fighting to live, the other half begging to die.

She'd only managed to put a bottle of milk and a box of Weetabix into her basket when someone bumped into her. She turned around and was astounded to see Viktor Krum scowling back at her. The scowl disappeared and was replaced by recognition.

"Hermione?"

"Viktor?"

They hugged each other.

"What are you doing in London?" Hermione asked.

Viktor smiled. "I am trying out for Puddlemere United."

Hermione looked at him, surprised that he would leave Bulgaria. "What? I thought you played for the Vrasta Vultures when you weren't playing for the Bulgarian National team."

Viktor cleared his throat. "I was. I just needed a change. I can still play for the national team if they want me."

Hermione thought it odd that there would be a question as to whether they'd want him, but she didn't follow Quidditch very closely, so she was reticent to say anything else about it. "Are you staying around here?"

Viktor sighed. "No. I am supposed to be staying in Diagon Alley, but the Portkey that was to take me directly to the hotel dropped me behind some Muggle jewelry store instead. I have been walking around for two hours trying to find the magical entrance. I just came in here to get something to eat."

Hermione grimaced. "I'm so sorry. You should report the Portkey - that kind of malfunction is really serious. Who made it?"

Viktor shrugged and his scowl returned.

"Well, the good news is Diagon Alley is only about a block from here. I can take you."

He looked visibly relieved.

She looked down at the pitiful contents of her basket. "Actually, would you like to get dinner first?"

Viktor smiled warmly at her. "I would like that." He raised his eyebrows. "But, it is Christmas Eve, and I do not think we are likely to find many places open, unless you want to go to a Muggle restaurant or eat at the hotel."

Hermione thought he was probably right. "You know what?" she said. "Why don't I make us dinner? I don't live far from here and then you don't have to eat hotel food on Christmas Eve."

Viktor nodded his head. "That sounds good. You are sure you do not mind? I do not want to intrude. Your friends--"

"Not at all. I'm actually on my own tonight." Hermione smiled. Her evening suddenly didn't seem as bleak. "Do you have any particular favorites?"

With bags laden with thick steaks, parsnips and Brussels sprouts, she and Viktor walked through lightly falling snow to her townhouse. 

xXx

Dinner was a joint effort. Viktor knew a good grilling spell and Hermione handled the vegetables. Sated and having started on their second bottle of wine, they'd stayed at the dinner table talking until well into the night. When Viktor finally realized the time, he stood to leave. Hermione rested a hand on his forearm.

"Viktor, it's almost midnight. This house has five bedrooms. Why don't you stay? I can take you to Diagon Alley tomorrow."

He paused, looking intently at her. "You do not mind?"

She smiled. "I wouldn't have offered if I did."

She got him settled into one of the first-floor bedrooms and then went upstairs to her own room, only she wasn't able to sleep. After an hour of tossing and turning, she gave up and went back downstairs. She conjured a fire in the parlor fireplace and poured herself a little brandy and sat sipping it on the Persian carpet in front of the fire. The events of the last few weeks played over and over in her mind. She'd been sitting there for some time when she heard Viktor come downstairs. He went into the kitchen and then a minute later he came into the parlor with a glass of water in his hand.

"Hermione?"

She looked up at him. "I couldn't sleep."

He sighed. He was barefoot and shirtless in flannel pajama bottoms. He sat cross-legged on the rug next to her. "Me either."

"Well, happy Christmas," she said, and leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"Happy Christmas," he repeated, but instead of kissing her cheek, he kissed her warmly on the mouth. The part of her that had been fighting to live for the last week opened her mouth to him and the part of her that wanted to die drowned in his eager response. They kissed as if they had never stopped dating, which was comforting and familiar. Soon they were lying on their sides. When his hand cupped her breast, that too was as before, and she arched into him, but when she felt his hands tugging at the belt of her dressing gown, she leaned her head back out of the kiss and looked down at what he was doing.

He smiled at her. "Just once," he said softly, "I would like to feel you without layers of cotton and wool between us."

She swallowed hard, unsure if she really wanted to do this, but then she considered her alternate plan for the holiday, cast a wandless non-verbal spell to conceal her scars, and opened her dressing gown. The flannel gown she wore beneath it buttoned up the front and she watched Viktor unbutton it. He started at the bottom and kissed the flesh behind each opened button. When he reached the top one, he slipped it from her shoulders leaving her naked. The heat from the fire felt good against her exposed skin, but Viktor's mouth on her breast felt even better. As he kissed his way back down her body, his black hair reminded her briefly of Harry in much the same position after the Poacher's Curse had been cast at the three of them during the war. She closed her eyes and willed away the image. She didn't like to think about that night, and she especially didn't want to think about it right now. She was already fighting back feelings of guilt, but Viktor's tongue was making that easier and easier. She gasped and surged against his mouth as he deftly slid two fingers inside her. He curled them and she came completely unglued, leaving her panting and trembling through aftershocks. Viktor kissed her thigh, wiped his mouth on the bottom of her gown, and slid back up next to her and smiled. She glanced at him. He'd put on a lot of muscle since school. She patted his chest, noting that he had washboard abs and was still wearing his pajama pants which were tented now. "Give me a second, and I'll return the favor."

He smiled at her. "Actually, if you do not mind, I think I would rather be inside you." He kissed her shoulder.

"Oh," Hermione said, blinking. She hadn't considered that. And now he was expecting an answer. "Um, okay."

He cast the contraception charm wandlessly as he slid out of his pajama bottoms before settling between her legs. Once again, she was reminded of Harry. Viktor was an average sized guy, unlike Ron, who was rather a lot to accommodate. The thought of Ron sent another wave of guilt washing over her, but she pushed it aside. He'd sent her away. He'd hurt her. She owed him nothing. She could do as she pleased and right now Viktor pleased her, but that was short lived as his first real thrust drove her bruised bottom into the carpet and she hissed in pain.

Viktor looked down at her, concern crossing his features. "Am I hurting you?"

She shifted uncomfortably beneath him. "No. I mean…it's just…the floor is rather hard. Would you mind…could we switch?"

He grinned at her. "Absolutely." He slipped out of her and rolled on to his back.

xXx

Viktor was delighted when Hermione suggested they switch places. He liked the view a woman on top provided, but when she shifted on to her knees to straddle him, he caught sight of a dark purple bruise that ran all the way across her bum. Not wanting to kill the mood, he didn't say anything, but it bothered him. The bother disappeared though when she sank over him, but as she rested her hands on his chest, he noticed finger bruises on her forearms. They were fading to yellow, but they were there. She tightened herself around him and shifted her hips and, for the moment, he forgot about the bruises.

He wanted more time, but she was riding him hard and this was an old fantasy come true. They hadn't taken the physical aspects of their relationship very far when they'd been at Hogwarts. She was only fifteen at the time which had felt a lot younger than his eighteen years had felt. He hadn't wanted to push her then, but he had wanted her, and now he was here, inside of her, and he wasn't going to last much longer. He growled in frustration and got his hands under him and thrust himself off the floor, shifting their position and throwing off her rhythm. She gasped at the sudden change. He wrapped his arm around her and pressed his forehead against hers. "You are…" He gritted his teeth, trying to rein himself in.

"What?" Hermione gasped, unsure of what was happening.

"Surprising," Viktor finished. "I…" He groaned again. "Can I come inside you? I will not last much longer."

xXx

Thrown off her rhythm and confused by the question, Hermione looked at him. Ron had never asked before. And neither of them had asked that night with Harry. They hadn't cast the contraception charm either which left them all very nervous for two weeks until she'd started her period, but she'd heard Viktor cast the charm, so she wasn't sure why he thought she'd mind. Perhaps some women minded. It occurred to her she didn't know much about sexual etiquette. Once again, she realized he was waiting for an answer and it was costing him. All the muscles in his neck were taunt. "Go ahead," she gasped.

He gripped her shoulders and thrust up hard twice before moaning against her neck. She felt him relax. Panting, he kissed her cheek and then her mouth, sliding his fingers into her hair as he kissed her more passionately. When he released her, he lay down on his back and she snuggled next to him. He pulled her dressing gown over them both. She could feel his heart pounding in his chest as his breathing started to slow.

Viktor chuckled softly.

She pushed herself up on one elbow and looked at him. "What?"

"Is there anything you are not good at?"

"I'm terrible on a broom."

He laughed. "Still? I tried so hard to teach you at Hogwarts."

She sighed. "I never got any better. Thank goodness for Apparition."

He shook his head. Smiling, he cupped her breast. "These are quite a bit fuller than I remember. As I recall they used to barely fill my hand."

Hermione shrugged. "Yes, and that was probably mostly jumper."

He chuckled again.

"However," she said somewhat defensively, "I was only fifteen and a bit of a late bloomer."

He smiled more sincerely. "You have grown up very beautiful."

She shook her head. "Beautiful is a stretch."

He cupped her face and leaned in to kiss her again. "I do not think so."

It was hard to look at him when he said things like that, so she snuggled against him instead. He pulled her dressing gown back over them and they drifted off to sleep.

xXx

Hermione awoke the next morning to the sounds and smells of breakfast. She was still naked on the floor of the parlor under her dressing gown, but the fire had died down and the room was chilly. She shrugged on her dressing gown before adding some logs to the fire. She went into the powder room to freshen up and get her hair under control before she faced Viktor. Her wand was still in the pocket of her dressing gown so she used it to cast a new glamour charm to cover her scars and then she cast the elaborate spells to tame her hair into a single braid down her back. She didn't have time for a shower, so she cast a general cleaning charm on herself and her clothes. She blew out a slow breath as she assessed herself in the mirror. _What have I done?_ She frowned at her image. _Oh please_ , she thought, _you're a grown woman. Two consenting adults spent the night together. Don't be a baby about it. He's making breakfast. Go in there and act like an adult._ She blew out another calming breath and opened the door.

When she stepped into the kitchen Viktor was standing at the cooker, fully dressed, with his wand out. Bacon and eggs were frying.

"You went back to the market," Hermione said, knowing she hadn't had breakfast food on hand last night.

"I had to," Viktor said. "All you had to eat was those cereal cubes."

"Weetabix," Hermione answered.

"Yes," Viktor said grimacing. "I do not know how you eat that."

She shrugged.

He began plating eggs and bacon. "Sit," he said.

"Thank you for making breakfast."

He smiled at her. "I woke hungry."

Her stomach growled in agreement and she could feel herself blush.

"Ah, you did too," Viktor said, handing her a plate before grabbing his own and sitting across from her. "I could not find coffee."

"I usually drink tea," she said. "I'll put the kettle on."

"Alright," he said, taking a bite of bacon. "I would have bought some if I'd known."

Hermione flicked her wand and the kettle sailed over to the sink, filled itself, and then sailed back to the stove top. With another flick of her wand, she started the fire under it. Viktor watched her. "You are very good with magic," he said.

She smiled. "Because I can make tea?"

"I was thinking more because you can tame that hair, but the tea is nice too." There was a mischievous gleam in his eye.

She mock scowled at him. "Thanks a lot." She took a bite of bacon. "This is really good."

"Thank you. I am also good with magic."

She stood and finished making the tea, bringing the pot to the table so it could steep while she got a couple of cups from the cupboard.

"It snowed last night," he said. "People seemed quite concerned at the market."

"Yes, well, it doesn't snow often in London. There's a bit of a tendency toward panic among the Muggles when it does."

"It snowed quite a lot."

"Seriously?" Hermione said, going to the window to see for herself. "Good heavens. That's unusual." There was a thick blanket of snow covering the surrounding area.

"We should go sledding," he said.

Hermione turned to look at him. "I don't think we have a sled."

"We?" Viktor said.

"This was my parents' house," Hermione said, her voice catching.

Viktor raised his eyebrows.

"They were killed by Death Eaters…in retaliation…after the war."

"A terrible thing," Viktor said.

She didn't want to talk about it. Living in their house was hard enough without talking about their death. "Anyway, I don't think they owned a sled."

He gave her a sad smile. "No matter. If you want to go, I will transfigure something."

She nodded. "That sounds good." She poured them each a cup of tea and then sat back down to finish her breakfast.

Viktor pushed the eggs around on his plate. "I was engaged to be married."

Hermione set down her tea and looked at him.

"You would have liked her. She was very smart and very outspoken. She was also murdered by Death Eaters."

She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "I'm so sorry."

"It is a hard thing to live with," he said softly.

Hermione nodded. "Yes."

He turned his hand over and laced his fingers through hers. "We will go sledding."

She blinked back tears and smiled. "Yes. I'll go get changed."

xXx

She was pulling on her snow boots in the kitchen when Viktor said, "Hermione, before we go, perhaps I should…"

She looked up at him. "What?"

He cleared his throat. "There are bruises on your body," he said softly. "Perhaps I should heal them."

"Oh." Hermione felt her face heat up. "Okay."

He gave her a weak smile. "Drop your trousers."

"Right," she said. It was humiliating, but he'd already seen them. She couldn't imagine why she hadn't thought to include the bruises in the charm that covered her scars. He was right though, healing them before they went sledding was definitely a good idea. She turned around and unbuckled her belt and slid her trousers and knickers down just far enough for him to see the bruise.

"This is quite deep," Viktor said before casting Episkey. "Why have you left it?"

The relief was immediate. The bruise had been aching all week. She didn't realize how much it had been hurting until the pain disappeared. She'd left it to discourage her from going back to Ron. He needed to come to her. She didn't tell Viktor that though, instead, she pulled her trousers back up and buckled her belt. "Thanks."

"You are welcome. Let me see your arms."

Her face grew hotter. The bruise on her bum had hurt so bad, she'd completely forgotten about the fingerprint bruises on her arms. She pushed her sleeves up but turned her head away. Viktor cast Episkey twice more. "Thanks," Hermione said again without looking at him as she pulled her sleeves down and buttoned the cuffs.

Viktor put his wand away and said gently, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Hermione shook her head. "No." She knew he must have some sense of how she'd gotten hurt, but she didn't want to talk about it. Ron wasn't himself, and while she might not be able to live with him anymore, she couldn't run him down either. She had a deep and abiding sense of loyalty when it came to Ron and Harry. Ron had sacrificed so much for her. The least she could do was keep her mouth shut.

Viktor tucked an errant curl behind her ear. "Time to play in the snow, yes?"

She smiled at him. "Yes. There's a park with a hill just a few blocks from here."

"Perfect," Viktor said. Outside he transfigured an empty garbage bin into a toboggan and they set off.

xXx

Playing in the snow turned out to be a lot of fun even if their toboggan had a bit of a funky smell. Muggles were enjoying the unusual snowfall too, and the atmosphere was carefree and happy. After a couple of hours, they were both tired and wet and ready to head back. There was a Muggle vendor selling hot chocolate from a cart, but neither of them had Muggle money with them and Hermione didn't want to cheat the vendor by transfiguring something.

"You know who makes the best hot chocolate?" she said.

Viktor raised his eyebrows.

"Honeydukes."

"Ah, yes, in that village below Hogwarts."

"Hogsmeade," Hermione said. "Shall we? We can just step behind those trees." He followed her out of sight of the Muggles and she held out her arm.

"What?" Viktor looked skeptical. "You want to take me side-along?"

She smiled at him. "I used to take Ron and Harry all over the place?"

"Both of them? You can do double side-along?"

She nodded. "Even in a pinch." She held out her arm again.

He took it reluctantly. "All right."

When they arrived in Hogsmeade, Viktor did a quick assessment to make sure she hadn't Splinched him. Hermione chuckled at his concern. "You're fine."

He gave her a long approving look. "You are very good at magic."

She smiled. "Yes, I am. Come on, let's get some hot chocolate."

Honeydukes had just opened and they were the first customers of the day. Viktor ordered two hot chocolates with whipped cream. As they stepped back outside, Hermione took a sip of her drink.

"You have whipped cream on your nose." Viktor chuckled and wiped it away with his thumb." A flash bulb went off and Hermione recognized a photographer that worked for _The Daily Prophet_. Without asking, she grabbed Viktor's arm and Apparated back to the foyer of her parents' townhouse.

Viktor was wide-eyed when they landed. He looked down at the drink in his hand. "You did not even spill it," he said in awe.

"No," she said.

"I take it you do not like publicity."

"No." She set her drink on the little table next to the front door and pulled off her coat and hung it in the hall closet. "Where did he come from anyway? How did he know we were there?"

Viktor shrugged and hung his coat next to hers and pulled off his boots. "It was probably just luck." 

"I guess you get that all the time." She left her boots next to Viktor's and went through to the kitchen.

He followed her. "It is part of the job. Surely, given your role in the war, you must be used to it by now."

"Familiar, yes. Used to it? Not really."

He put a comforting hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed. "It is better to embrace it than to fight it. They go after you harder when you fight it."

She closed her eyes and blew out a frustrated breath. "I know you're right. I just hate it."

"I know," he kissed her softly on the lips.

She kissed him back but was surprised when he began unbuttoning her shirt as he moved to kiss her neck. She turned her head to give him more access and realized they were standing in the kitchen. Since she had no desire for another encounter on a table, she pressed her lips against his ear. "Viktor, there are beds in this house, you know?"

He leaned back and looked at her. "You have the best ideas."

She laughed and tugged him upstairs by his belt.

xXx

She Apparated with him to the entrance to Diagon Alley later that afternoon. He had a meeting with the coaches for Puddlemere United that evening and then wanted to turn in early to be ready for tryouts the next day.

Hermione pulled out her wand and showed him the sequence to tap on the wall to get into the alley. The bricks folded themselves back and created a doorway. Viktor looked at her with an expression of gratitude. He leaned in and kissed her. "Thank you."

She smiled at him. "It was wonderful to see you again."

"You too." He tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "I should go."

She nodded. "Good luck with the team."

He smiled at her, kissed her forehead, before stepping into the alley. Hermione watched as the bricks closed behind him. She sighed and turned to walk back home. She could have Apparated, but she decided the walk might do her good. She was sad to see Viktor go, but she didn't have any delusions about the last twenty-four hours. She tried to sort through her feelings. There was still no word from Ron or Harry beyond Harry's Christmas card. She wondered what Ron's explanation for her departure had been. Part of her wanted to tell Harry and Ginny what had happened, but a larger part didn't want anyone to ever know what Ron had done, what she'd allowed him to do. She could have stopped him, could have cast Protego, could have cast any number of spells to get him off her, and yet she hadn't. She didn't know what was wrong with her or what was wrong with him. They were broken somehow and despite her best efforts, she hadn't been able to fix it. And now she'd slept with Viktor. She wasn't sure what that meant or if it meant anything in terms of her and Ron. She supposed not if she never disclosed it. She was certain Viktor wouldn't. On the other hand, there didn't seem to be a her and Ron anymore. A tear slipped down her cheek. After everything they'd been through, it was hard to imagine this was it. She wiped her face with the back of her hand and squared her shoulders. One thing Viktor had done for her was bring her life back into focus. She'd chosen him over oblivion, which meant she wasn't interested in dying. She loved Ron, but not what he'd become and not what she'd been there at the end either. She would rise. She would keep herself busy until she heard from the Ministry and if the Unspeakables didn't work out, she'd find something else. She was Hermione Granger, witch. She would not be undone by a breakup. She was stronger than that. If she had to rebuild her life from the ground up, so be it.


	2. Pretend It Doesn't Bother You

Tuesday morning, Hermione was eating a piece of toast and planning on cleaning out the basement where her parents' offices were when an owl carrying _The Daily Prophet_ arrived. When she opened the window, she was surprised to see another owl with a letter. Her heart soared. Someone had written. She tossed the newspaper aside, took the letter and gave both owls a treat before sending them on their way. The letter was from Viktor: two pages telling her all about his first day of trials. He'd done well, liked the other members of the team, and had liked his chances after his meeting with the coaches. Lastly, he mentioned a new book about the Goblin Wars that he'd started reading and suggested she might like it. Hermione found some parchment and a quill and penned a response. Since she hadn't thought to ask one of the owls to stay, she'd have to take it to the owlery later. Pulling _The Daily Prophet_ over, she surveyed the headlines. Nothing struck her as particularly interesting until she got to page six where the lead of the gossip column was a picture of her and Viktor outside Honeydukes. Over and over again Viktor smiled and wiped the whipped cream from the end of her nose before she grabbed his arm and Disapparated. Viktor had been right, she should have just stayed there. The photo made it look like she'd been caught out doing something she was ashamed of. The caption said it all: Hermione Granger seen stepping out with former flame, Viktor Krum in Hogsmeade Sunday morning. She looked at the photo more closely. Viktor's smile was playful, but she couldn't have looked more guilt ridden as they Disapparated. She sighed and closed the paper. Ron was going to see that. Her stomach clenched at the thought. They hadn't spoken since the night she'd left. Apparently, he had been serious when he'd told her he was done with her. Maybe this is what he really wanted. She ran her hand along the edge of the table. Fine. She couldn't live like that anyway. She sighed again and went down to the basement to start clearing it out.

After her parents were killed, she'd arranged to have their patient records transferred to a friend of theirs who was also a dentist. She'd also given him access to their offices to take any equipment that might interest him for his own practice. She'd given their dental hygienist a nice severance package and asked the receptionist to stay on for a few more days and call everyone with upcoming appointments before she got her own severance. After that, Hermione locked their office and used a permanent sticking charm to pin a note on the door that stated that they were forever closed due to a death. She hadn't been down there since.

Hermione unlocked the door to their offices and lit the lantern she'd brought with her. She'd had her parent's house declared entirely magical and taken off the Muggle electrical grid a couple of days after she'd moved back in. Magic and electricity didn't mix well and it was too much trouble and dangerous to try and deal with both in the same house. She opened the blinds in the front windows of the walkout basement to let in more light. Their office was largely intact. Aside from the patient files and the equipment that had been removed everything else was still there. The cabinets were full of supplies. The waiting area was still furnished. Their desks were still as they'd left them. The walls of the waiting area still had the framed posters about dental care. The patient rooms also had framed artwork on the walls, but most of them were drawings done by their younger patients. As she walked by each frame, she cast shrinking charms on them until they were just little tiles, which she tossed in an empty copier paper box that had been left on the floor. Over her mother's desk was a drawing she had done when she was around five or six. It was an endearingly bad drawing of their family done in crayon. She took it off the wall and sat on the floor holding it while she sobbed. She missed them so much. The loss seemed unbearable and overwhelming sometimes, but after awhile she pulled herself together and got up and continued cleaning. She had to keep going. Staying busy was the only thing she could think to do to get through the pain.

Clearing out the basement took all day and well into the night because it was so difficult to stay focused. Thoughts of her parents, thoughts of Ron, and thoughts of the war kept surfacing. She was consumed with guilt over her failures. She kept thinking of all the things she should have done. She should have Obliviated her parents and sent them away when they refused to go on their own. They would still be lost to her, but at least they'd be alive. She thought about the last year with Ron. Arguments they had, arguments she should have made but didn't. Maybe she should have gone to his parents and asked for help. Maybe she should have gone to Harry and Ginny. Maybe Bill or Charlie. At the time, it seemed disloyal to Ron and lame that she couldn't manage her own affairs. But with some time and distance, she wished she'd done things differently. Interspersed with thoughts of Ron and her parents there were memories of the war. They would flash fully formed in her mind, dead friends, people she'd killed, injuries she'd sustained, or worse injuries to Ron and Harry: so much dark magic, so much blood. When the thoughts threatened to overwhelm her, she took a break for tea or to go to the owlery or to just walk around the block and get fresh air. It was after midnight before she decided she was done for the night.

xXx

Wednesday morning two more owls showed up, but this time she asked the one that brought Viktor's letter to stay. As he had the day before, Viktor penned a two-page letter, mostly about his day but he also mentioned the photo in the gossip column. He thought they looked good, but he knew she didn't care for the publicity, so he hoped she was okay. She responded by writing about the challenges of clearing out her parents' old offices and concluded by saying she didn't care about the photo in the paper. That was true in the sense that she didn't care about the photo itself. She did care about what Ron thought about it and what his family and their friends thought, but she didn't see any point in burdening Viktor with all that. After all, it wasn't as if he could do anything about it. What was done, was done. She spent the rest of the day sorting through her parents' books. She didn't get very far because she kept getting distracted. She found a pint of Jameson's Irish Whiskey behind a shelf of her father's mysteries. It was almost empty, so she took it and John Mortimer's First Rumpole Omnibus and retired to the parlor sofa.

xXx

On Thursday morning, Viktor's owl showed up with a bouquet of Alstroemerias in addition to the letter. Viktor was very sweet in his concern for her having to clear out her parents' offices on her own. He offered to help if she wanted to clear out anything else and told her not to push herself too hard. She sent back a letter thanking him for his concern and confessing that she'd spent most of the previous day reading on the sofa. The rest of her day was spent in another half-hearted attempt to sort through her parents' books.

xXx

There was no letter Friday morning, and Hermione felt its absence as an acute loss, but she shook herself out of it. After all, Viktor was busy. By this point, he'd been with the team for a few days and had people to talk to and go out with. He didn't need to spend evenings alone writing letters anymore. She sighed and tossed the paper aside unread. She needed a social life too. She thought about seeing friends, but she wasn't sure how to do that. Other people generally made the social plans and she just went along. She couldn't help wondering if any of her friends would even want to talk to her since the paper implied she was cheating on Ron with Viktor. Given that the paper had routinely covered their relationship when they were recovering after the war, she had to assume Ron hadn't told anyone they broke up, or it would have appeared in the gossip column. She wondered why he hadn't said anything. After all, he was the one who sent her away. Of course, she hadn't told anyone either, but that had largely been because she'd thought he might change his mind and it was embarrassing to tell people he'd kicked her out. Maybe she could find a book on how to make new friends. She shook her head at how pathetic that seemed. In the meantime, she needed a shower. She was just about to step in when she heard a knock on the front door. She slipped on her dressing gown and grabbed her wand before going downstairs to look out the peephole in the front door.

Viktor was standing on the stoop. She smiled and cast the glamour charm to cover her scars and opened the door. "Viktor?"

He stepped inside, grinning at her. "You are looking at the new starting Seeker for Puddlemere United."

"Congratulations!" she said, hugging him. He picked her up and spun around with her, causing her to laugh.

"I have missed you," he said, closing the front door. He leaned in and kissed her. She kissed him back while frantically trying to catch up. When they'd parted ways on Sunday, she'd assumed that was pretty much it, then the letters and flowers implied perhaps it wasn't, but she hadn't really thought about it. Viktor was a professional Quidditch player. He was no longer stuck at some isolated school in Scotland because he was expected to compete in some ridiculous wizard challenge. He was out in the wider world. He had real options. Surely, he could do better than her. His mouth was more persistent and he slid his hands down to the sash of her dressing gown and began to untie it. Hermione considered that he didn't really know anyone else in England and he did just get incredible news that he clearly wanted to celebrate. It didn't mean anything. She was who he knew. She was available. As her dressing gown came open and he began to kiss his way down her body, she thought, _Okay. He's sexy, smart, and kind. If he wants to hang around a bit and have a celebration shag, I'm fine with that._ As his mouth reached the juncture of her thighs she realized she was more than fine with it. When she started to go weak in the knees he began working his way back up her body. She assumed they'd move upstairs but Viktor had other plans. He was still wearing all of his clothes including his coat. He dropped that to the floor and pulled his shirt over his head. She stood panting as she watched him undress. He really did have a very nice body. She was surprised when he unbuckled his belt that he didn't take off his trousers, he just unzipped them and ran a hand down her thigh.

"Ever had sex standing up?" he whispered in her ear.

Wide-eyed she shook her head.

"You're about to. Hop up."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and did as he asked. He caught her by the bum, a hand on each cheek and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He slipped inside her on the first try and she moaned as he pressed her back against the wall. She gasped as he pressed his forehead against hers. "You alright?" he asked, his voice low.

"Yes," she hissed.

It didn't take long. It was rough, but not cruel. She liked the frenzied intensity of it but was still surprised when she slipped over the edge with him. It was the closest he came to dropping her, but he managed to brace her against the wall and let her get her legs under her before he sank to his knees. Resting his hand against the wall, he looked up at her and grinned. "You are fantastic."

She laughed and pulled her dressing gown closed. "You're not so bad yourself. I was about to get in the shower. Care to join me?"

He pulled his pants up as he stood. "Lead on."

The hall bathroom upstairs had a walk-in shower without a tub. Her mother had insisted on it after a stay at a hotel in the United States. As Viktor kissed her under the spray, she could see the advantages. She kissed her way down his body. It was his turn to pant as he leaned back against the tile and watched her. After years of accommodating Ron, Viktor was fairly easy to manage and given what they'd just been up to, even easier.

"Hermione," Viktor said. "Wait. I am going to—"

She looked up at him and smiled, sliding her mouth off him. "Special occasion." She winked and resumed what she was doing.

xXx

A little while later, they were lying in what she now thought of as his room. "I have two things to ask you," he said.

She had been lightly dozing, so she pulled herself up on one elbow to look at him so she wouldn't fall asleep. "Okay."

"First, I need a place to live. Will you help me look at flats? I have some already lined up to see."

"Sure."

He smiled at her. "Thank you. Also, my cousin, Todor, has invited me to come to Amsterdam for a few weeks to stay in a house he is sharing with some friends. Would you like to join me?"

"Um," Hermione said. "That's…" she paused.

"Think about it. You do not have to decide now." His stomach growled loudly.

She chuckled and ran her hand over his belly. "Hungry?"

"Yes," he said. "Do you have any food that is not cereal cubes?"

"I have eggs and toast."

"Excellent," he said. "We will eat then."

They got dressed and headed downstairs.

While Hermione made breakfast, Viktor told her all about his week. "Training starts in a month, so we have time to do as we please before then. When should you hear about your job?"

She was surprised to hear him reference them as 'we,' he seemed to be including her in future plans as though they were in a relationship, but then maybe he was just looking for company until he started with the team. "I've probably got another two or three weeks on that."

He nodded. "Good. Plenty of time for fun then."

She set a plate of fried eggs and toast in front of him and sat down with her own. "What time are we supposed to look at flats."

"The first appointment is at ten."

Hermione looked at the clock. It was already past nine. "Where are we going?"

"Diagon Alley. Puddlemere United plays in Dorset, but I'm not one for country living."

Hermione nodded. "I know what you mean. I much prefer London. The countryside is nice, but I don't want to live there." She thought about the Burrow in all its lopsided glory. She and Ron had lived there for several months after they left the hospital. Pushing the thought away she ate her breakfast, while Viktor told her about the three flats they were going to look at. He openly discussed his budget which was considerable. Puddlemere United was paying him a lot more that the Vrasta Vultures had. Part of her wanted to tell him to just stay with her _,_ but she knew that was ridiculous. They barely knew each other anymore and even if he did want a relationship with her, which she still couldn't really believe, it was much too soon to live together.

They finished breakfast and then Apparated to Diagon Alley and walked to the nearest apartment building. There was an estate agent there to meet them. She raised her eyebrows when she saw Hermione. "Oh my, aren't you—?"

"Yes," Hermione said with a tight smile.

"She is helping me choose a flat," Viktor said.

"Right," the agent said, bouncing back quickly. "Then let's get started."

The first flat was on the top floor of an old building. It had large rooms, big windows, and high ceilings. Hermione liked the feel of it, but it only had two bedrooms and Viktor wanted at least three, so he could have a guest room and a broom room. They moved on to the next building, which was much more modern and just outside of Diagon Alley. It was a mixed building with Muggle floors on the bottom and magical floors on top. The flat had four bedrooms, but both Viktor and Hermione felt it was a bit sterile. The last flat was back in Diagon Alley and a perfect blend of the other two. It was on the top floor of an older building, had three bedrooms, and all the charm of the first building. They both agreed it was perfect.

"When can I move in?" Viktor asked.

"As early as today if you sign the paperwork and make the deposit," the realtor said, delighted.

"Excellent. You have this paperwork?"

The realtor fished through her bag and extracted a long piece of parchment. Viktor looked at Hermione, "Will you read this with me? I want to make certain I am not missing anything with the language barrier. I speak English better than I read it."

"Of course," Hermione said, taking the parchment. They read over the contract, which was a standard year lease. Viktor signed and handed the realtor a bag of Galleons.

"Congratulations," the realtor said, all smiles, and handed him the key.

He pulled out his wand. "I am going to take some measurements." As he walked toward the back of the flat, the realtor turned toward Hermione. "You must be a very good friend if you're willing to do this on a day like today."

"What's so special about today?" Hermione asked, confused.

"Nothing I guess," the realtor said, backtracking. "I just thought with that _Witch Weekly_ article out, you must be pretty upset. I'm sure Harry Potter is too."

"I don't get _Witch Weekly_ ," Hermione said, a sinking pit beginning to form in her stomach.

"Oh," the realtor said, looking alarmed. She grimaced. "Do you want to see it? I have it in my bag."

With trepidation, Hermione said, "I guess."

The realtor went into her bag again and handed Hermione a copy of the magazine. The cover was an old picture of her, Ron, and Harry taken sometime during late fifth or maybe early sixth year. She hadn't seen it before, but she stood between the two boys her arms over both their shoulders, Ron stooping so she could manage it. They were all laughing. The cover story was "Wild Times During the War." In smaller print beneath that the subheading was "The Secret History of the Golden Trio." It was written by Rita Skeeter. Hermione quickly scanned the article to find it was an interview with Ron and the conclusion Rita implied was that their nights in the tent were filled with wild ménage-a-trois sex. The magazine fell from her hands as Viktor was walking back into the room.

"Can you help me move?" he asked. "I would like to get it done today. I have an open Portkey."

"Yes," Hermione said tightly. "And then we should go to Amsterdam. I want out of England."

Viktor looked up from the piece of parchment he'd been scribbling measurements on. "Why? What has happened?"

"He's destroyed us," she said in a small, hollow voice. "What was he thinking?"

The realtor looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I should go. Congratulations again on the new flat," she said to Viktor, thrusting out her hand. He shook it without taking his eyes off Hermione. "I'll see myself out," the realtor said and hurried for the door.

Tears were streaming down Hermione's cheeks as Viktor reached for the magazine at her feet. He quickly scanned the article before tossing it back on the floor. "Why would he—?"

Hermione shook her head. "Don't. I can't." She covered her mouth with her hand and closed her eyes. She stood like that for a long moment before she wiped her tears with the back of her hand. "You said you wanted to move?"

"Yes. You do not mind going to Bulgaria for a bit?" Viktor said, concern etched across his features.

"That sounds perfect actually. Let's go."

He pulled a bent pen out of his back pocket. "Come outside." But when they stepped out of the lobby, there were three reporters waiting.

"Miss Granger!" They were all shouting. Photos were snapped as Viktor hurried her away. When they turned the corner of the building, he said, "We will go to the park." They Disapparated and reappeared in the copse of trees in the park where they'd gone sledding. He touched his wand to the pen and said, "Hold on."

Hermione took the other end and a moment later felt the familiar yank behind her navel. What felt like an eternity later, they landed in front of a modest white house. Viktor turned to her. "Are you all right?"

She held her stomach as a wave of nausea passed. "Yes. Wow. That was exhausting."

"Yes," Viktor said. "But I have gotten used to it. We will get water. It helps after such a long journey."

Hermione nodded and followed him to the door. Before they entered, he paused and turned back to her. "I have been living with my parents for the last year. This is their house. They do not speak English and they…" He paused and shook his head. "Come inside." He opened the door and they stepped into a small foyer. She followed him into a parlor that was decorated with furniture that seemed too fancy for the space. An older man sat reading in the corner of the room with his feet up on a velvet ottoman. He had Viktor's dark hair but it was starting to go gray. He grunted something at Viktor and Viktor grunted something back. Hermione decided she should probably learn some Bulgarian if she was going to continue dating him. A woman stepped into the parlor wiping her hands on an apron. She was all smiles until she caught sight of Hermione and then she scowled at Viktor. He turned to Hermione. "This is my mother." He said something in Bulgarian to his mother and then Hermione's name. Hermione stuck out her hand to the older woman, who looked at it as if it were covered in filth and didn't shake it. Viktor glared at his mother and said to Hermione, "That is my father over there. Come with me." He led her into the kitchen where he got them both a glass of water and then walked back into the parlor.

Hermione was surprised to find his mother following them up a narrow set of stairs. She kept up a steady stream of comments which Viktor seemed to ignore as though she weren't there. He stopped at a door and pulled out his wand and performed an elaborate unlocking spell. His mother followed them into the room. Hermione finally understood one word the older woman said and that was Nikolina, which Hermione knew to be the name of Viktor's dead fiancé. Viktor turned on his mother in a rage and the sheer force of whatever he said drove her from the room. Viktor flicked his wand and the door slammed shut behind her. He cast a locking charm and turned back to Hermione. "I am sorry."

"It's okay," Hermione said. "I didn't really understand any of that. She doesn't seem to care for me being here though, which seems odd. She doesn't even know me."

Viktor sighed. "She knows who you are."

Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"When we dated in school, Karkaroff took it upon himself to send them several letters telling them about it. They did not approve."

"Because of the age difference?"

"No." Viktor shifted uncomfortably. "They was more concerned about your blood status."

"Oh," Hermione said in a small voice.

Viktor sighed. "I am sorry. Their prejudices are not mine."

"I know that," Hermione said. He took her in his arms and she hugged him back. He bent down to kiss her. She brushed her lips softly against his, but he pressed her to deepen the kiss, sliding his hands up to cup her breasts as he did so. She pulled away. "What are you doing? We're in your parents' house."

"I do not care," he said, giving her a smoldering look.

She stepped away from him. "Well, I do. It's one thing to have the press calling me a slag. It's quite another to act like one."

His face fell. "Hermione—"

"Don't. Aren't we meant to be packing your things?"

"Of course. I am sorry." He looked sorry and somewhat embarrassed.

"It's fine. Let's just pack up and get out of here."

He nodded and pulled a trunk out of his closet. They spent the next half hour packing by casting shrinking charms on everything in the room until it all fit in the trunk. He took all the furniture as well as everything else, so the room was completely empty when they were done. Viktor closed the lid on the trunk and locked it before casting the unlocking spell on his bedroom door. His mother was standing in the hall and continued her diatribe as though it were uninterrupted while Victor cast a final shrinking charm on the trunk before picking it up and putting it in his coat pocket. Hermione followed him downstairs. They paused in the parlor where Viktor grunted something to his father who grunted back some kind of response. Viktor's mother followed them outside and made one final emphatic point while gesturing toward Hermione. Viktor continued ignoring her and pulled the bent pen out of his pocket. He tapped it with his wand before holding it out to Hermione. She grabbed the opposite end and felt the yank behind her navel. They had been in Bulgaria for less than an hour. They landed back in the copse of trees in the park. This time the nausea was too much and Hermione leaned against a tree and lost her breakfast.

"Are you all right?" Viktor asked sympathetically.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "I hate Portkeys."

He nodded. "I know, but they are the best way to go long distances."

"Do you mind if we walk back to my place so I can brush my teeth?"

"Of course not."

They walked the few blocks back to her parents' townhouse and Hermione went upstairs to freshen up.

xXx

Viktor was sitting at the kitchen table when she came back downstairs. "I need to buy so many things. I do not have parlor furniture. I do not have anything for the kitchen."

Hermione put her hands on her hips and looked around the kitchen. "My mother loved to shop," she said. "I bet I have some things you can use." She started opening cabinets. There was an extra kettle, a French press, a box with a four-place setting of dishes that had never even been opened, several extra pots and pans she knew she'd never use, and extra cleaning supplies under the sink. She went down to the basement and got a couple of boxes and began piling things into them. When she was done, Viktor had everything he'd need to make his flat livable until he had time to go shopping. He cast shrinking charms on everything and put the boxes into his coat pocket with his trunk from home. They went outside. Hermione pulled her wand to Disapparate, but he put a hand on her arm.

"Wait," Viktor said. "You know there are likely reporters waiting to see if you will come back."

Hermione lowered her wand.

"You do not have to come with me, but…"

"What?" Hermione asked.

"You need to decide how you want to handle them."

"Mostly I try not to."

Viktor smiled sympathetically. "That will not work if we are going to keep dating, besides it is a bad idea to run from them with that article out there."

"Really?" Hermione said incredulously. "It seems like all the more reason to run."

Viktor sighed. "If you run and hide, it makes it look like you are ashamed. Are you?"

She closed her eyes. She wasn't sure. It's not as though Ron had said what actually happened. No mention was made of the Poacher's Curse. The article was more of Rita speculating rather than Ron giving specifics of what actually happened between the three of them, which was one night, not the casual continuous sexual antics that Rita had implied. Rita had carefully crafted her words so she was just short of libel, so there could be no defamation suit. Of course, they would never sue anyway. After all, if questioned under Veritaserum, they couldn't lie, and while the truth wasn't their fault, it still happened. She had no interest in sharing the details and couldn't imagine Harry did either. Why Ron had ever consented to talk to Rita was beyond her. She could only imagine a great deal of alcohol was involved. She opened her eyes and looked at Viktor. "No. I'm not ashamed."

"Good," he said firmly. "And what about me? How do you feel about being seen with me?"

She squeezed his forearm. "I enjoy being with you. If people are going to stand around trying to get a picture of us then there isn't much we can do about that, is there?"

He smiled at her. "No. Not really. It is best to hold your head high and pretend it does not bother you."

She nodded. "I can do that."

He took her hand. "Good." They Disapparated and reappeared in front of his apartment building. There were reporters hanging around in hopes they'd show. Viktor squeezed her hand and they made their way toward the entrance. The reporters shouted her name and asked her questions about her relationships with Ron, Harry, and Viktor. She ignored them. Flash bulbs went off as Viktor held the door open for her and ushered her inside with his hand on the small of her back.

Once in his flat, Viktor drew out his wand and took the boxes and trunk out of his pocket and cast Engorgio on them. After that, Hermione set up the kitchen while he took his trunk back to his bedroom. Hermione finished first, so she joined him to help in the bedroom. He had almost everything put away but there were several framed prints still in his trunk.

"I think I want to put those out in the parlor. What do you think?" He asked.

Hermione put her hands on her hips and gave the room a once over. "I think it looks good." She hugged him and he kissed her cheek.

"The kitchen is all set."

"Good. Thank you." He sat down on the edge of his bed and took her hands in his. "I am very sorry about what happened at my parents' house. It was…" He shook his head trying to think of the word. "Inappropriate."

She smiled at him. "Thank you for saying so."

He sighed. "Being there makes me crazy. My father barely speaks to me because he is mad that I do not give him money, but he gambles, so he cannot be trusted with money. I support them, but only my mother can access the account." He sighed again, more heavily this time. "And my mother seems to want me to mourn Nikolina forever." He shook his head. "I loved her. I do miss her, but it has been over a year. I have to move on, but she tries to make me feel like a monster anytime I do."

Hermione took his face in her hands. "I'm so sorry."

"Do not be," he smiled at her. "You have made this move bearable."

She kissed him softly on the lips.

"Do you really want to go to Amsterdam?" Viktor asked.

"Yes. Do you already have a Portkey or do we need to get one made?"

"We'll need to apply, so it'll probably be two or three days."

Hermione gave him a knowing smile. "We'll see. Want to go to the Portkey Office? They're still open for another hour."

"All right," Viktor said.

xXx

A half an hour later, they left the Portkey Office with an empty beer bottle set to take them to Amsterdam in three hours. Viktor laughed at Hermione's satisfied smile. "I suppose being a war hero has its perks."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm no hero. I was there but Harry is the hero. I do get a certain notoriety for participation though, and yes, it does have its perks."

He smiled. "We should pack."


	3. Amsterdam

The Portkey to Amsterdam felt like it took forever and when they landed in front of a small brick house, Hermione looked vaguely green, so Viktor took her elbow. "Are you all right? You look pale."

"I'm fine," Hermione assured him. "I just hate Portkeys and that's two in one day."

Viktor nodded. "At least you did not vomit."

"There's still time."

"You just need a glass of water."

The door to the house flew open and Viktor's cousin, Todor, came barreling out and threw himself at Viktor almost knocking him over. The two proceeded to wrestle until Viktor managed to pin Todor. "Stop," Viktor said, grinning. "Come meet my girlfriend." He walked Todor over to where she was standing. "This is Hermione Granger," Viktor said. "And this," he said punching Todor lightly in the chest is Todor Golakov." He paused. "How do you say? Ah, my best mate."

Hermione smiled and shook Todor's hand.

"Come," Todor said, gesturing toward the house. "We get you settled. We are almost eating."

Todor showed them to their room and Viktor dropped off their bags before they made their way back to the kitchen to find three other people sitting around the table, two women, Marianna and Boyka, and a man, Filip. All three were blonde. Boyka and Filip were tall, thin, and sharp featured, but Marianna was shorter and rounder with an open pleasant face. Marianna smiled as she handed Viktor and Hermione each a beer and everyone sat down.

Dinner was a mishmash affair. There was some fish and some chicken, dribs and drabs of vegetables, all chopped up and sautéed together over rice. Everyone nibbled from a common platter in the middle of the table. The conversation was spirited and revolved primarily around art and politics. Viktor had known Todor his whole life and Boyka and Marianna since school. They had all gone to Durmstrang together, but Filip was Boyka's cousin and Viktor had never met him before. He was younger than the others and Viktor didn't care for the things he said or his sullen nature.

They sat at the table for a long time. He did his best to translate for Hermione. After the dishes were cleared, Boyka brought over a big tray of brownies, which Viktor ignored. He wasn't a fan of cakes and cookies, but Hermione seemed happy to see them and ate two. After dessert everyone migrated into the parlor. The house belonged to Marianna's mother's family. It was old and run down, but Viktor didn't mind. Hermione joined him on one of the couches. He looked at her. She could barely keep her eyes open.

"You are tired," he said.

She nodded.

"Come," he said, standing and holding out his hand to her. "We will go to bed."

When they got to their bedroom, Viktor held the door open for her and moved behind her as he closed it.

"Are you too tired for me?" he asked softly as he kissed the back of her neck.

She shook her head. Viktor smiled and pulled her down on the bed. He liked that she was usually up for sex. He felt like they were well matched that way. He cast a contraception charm and kissed her. Her mouth tasted of beer and chocolate. He let his hands wander and kissed his way down her body. She surprised him when she said, "Viktor?"

He looked up at her. "Hmm?"

"Come up here."

He moved back up and kissed her; then started to descend again.

"No, wait, come back."

He looked at her in confusion. "Do you not want…?"

"I want you inside me."

He smiled at her and moved into position. As he sank into her, he decided he was very lucky. Lucky to have run into her in London, lucky that she was here with him now. While he'd never lacked for female companionship, he'd missed the comfort and stability of the relationship he'd had with Nikolina. Hermione was not Nikolina, not even close, but she was enjoyable and familiar. That was good and things in his life had not been good in a long time. She wasn't as responsive as she usually was, she just lay back and let him do all the work, but he was okay with that. She'd had a long day.

xXx

Viktor woke the next morning to a couple of owls tapping on the window. He let them in and took the papers they were carrying and put a Knut in each of their pouches and gave them both a treat before letting them back out. Hermione wasn't in bed, but he could hear the water running in the bathroom. He took one of the papers and got back in bed to read. When she came out of the bathroom, he said "The owls came while you were bathing." He tossed her the other copy of the paper.

She crawled in bed beside him and started reading. He knew when she reached page six, because she made a small sound. Viktor had already seen the photo of him and her coming out of his building. The caption read: Are Granger and Her Bulgarian Bon Bon Looking for a New Love Nest? Below that was a photo of Harry, Ginny, and Ron with his arm around some girl. That caption read: Heroes Out on the Town. They were laughing and smiling in the moving photo. Viktor could see from her pained expression that it cut her.

"Are you all okay?" he asked.

"Fine," she said tightly.

He sighed. "It is all right if you want to speak of it. I know it must hurt."

Hermione shook her head. "There's nothing to talk about. He doesn't want me anymore, but he's a hero, and I'm a tart with a bon bon."

The idea that the writers at the _Prophet_ would be so harsh toward her made him angry. "They are idiots."

She smiled sadly and pressed her palm to his cheek. "You're sweet."

He wrapped an arm around her hips and pulled her closer to him. "I am not so sweet," he said and kissed her neck. "What was I doing last night when you stopped me? Where was I?" he asked and trailed his tongue down her body. "Was I here?" he asked as his tongue circled her nipple. He kissed the rising bud and then sucked hard.

Hermione gasped in a harsh breath at the pleasure/pain of it and he smiled.

He released it and circled it again with his tongue. "No, I think I was here." He trailed his tongue lower, stopping to nibble on the sensitive flesh around her belly button until she squirmed beneath him. "No, not here," he said and continued lower.

She moaned as he bit the inside of her thigh just hard enough to leave a bruise but not hard enough to break the skin. "I am sorry," he said, laving it with his tongue. "But I have not had breakfast." He looked at the juncture of her thighs. "Now, what to eat?"

Her back arched off the bed as his mouth descended. He left nothing unexplored by his tongue or his fingers. He brought her spiraling up to break, but when she pushed weakly against him to stop, he would bring her up again. He was determined to make her forget about those photos in the paper. He kept taking her back to orgasm until her whole body was trembling from the effort. He grinned when it was finally too much and she let out a throaty scream.

xXx

Later, when they finally made it downstairs, Viktor followed Hermione into the kitchen but bumped into her when she stopped short. Boyka and Marianna were locked in a passionate embrace.

"Oh, sorry," Hermione said.

Viktor smiled at her blush. Perhaps he should have mentioned that Boyka and Marianna were a couple.

Boyka slowly extricated herself from Marianna. "No problem," she said, smiling at them. "But if you've come to eat, there's no food."

Viktor's stomach growled.

Filip walked into the other end of the kitchen.

"Fine," Viktor grumbled. "I will go to the market." He pointed to Filip. "You, come with me."

Hermione touched his chest. "You want me to go too?"

Viktor shook his head. "No, you stay. Find some pans and pots. I am fast."

The market was just at the end of the block, so it only took a minute to walk there. Viktor picked up a basket and handed another to Filip. They acquired everything they needed for breakfast along with meat, bread, and cheese for lunch, and some chicken and vegetables for dinner.

By the time they returned, the rest of the house was completely transformed. Viktor smiled. He knew this was Hermione's doing. She could be a bit messy at times, but she didn't tolerate dirt or anything left in disrepair. All the tatty furnishings and broken bits were repaired and freshened and the whole house looked better.

For breakfast, Hermione made a big egg and bacon casserole, which was delicious. She hadn't cooked much since they'd been together, so the casserole was a nice surprise. Also surprising was that she knew a recipe that fed so many people.

He decided to take Hermione out for the afternoon and they walked around the city and saw the sights and then found the Netherlands equivalent to Diagon Alley where they bought hangover potion and Hermione bought some numbing balm. When they came back to the house late in the afternoon it was to find Todor and Filip playing with an old Muggle camera.

"I found in bazaar today," Todor said triumphantly. "I will charm to float around house and take picture."

"Fantastic," Filip crowed.

"Only downstairs," Boyka insisted. "I don't want that thing floating into my bedroom."

Todor gave a sweeping bow. "Of course. I would never do something so caddish."

Everyone laughed except Hermione who missed it because it was in Bulgarian. Viktor felt bad about her missing so much of the conversation and wondered if she'd be willing to learn some of the language. He thought maybe she would because she was exceedingly bright.

Hermione arched her back and pressed her hand into her side. "I'm going to go lay down for a little while," she said.

He considered looking at the camera with Todor and Filip but thought about Hermione in bed and decided to follow her. He opened the door to their bedroom to find her pulling off her bra. She squeaked and turned around and covered her breasts with her arms.

"Only me," Viktor said.

"Oh," Hermione said. She had a pained expression and shifted as though she were uncomfortable.

"What is wrong?"

"Nothing.I'm just a little sore."

Viktor stepped behind her. "I am sorry…I…Did I hurt you this morning?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, of course not. It's just from walking around all day."

"Your back hurts?"

"No, my side. It's an old injury, it hurts sometimes."

Viktor ran his hands along her sides.

She winced away from him.

"But I do not see-"

"It's charmed, it's fine. I'm fine."

He frowned at her. "Charmed? Why? Is under shirt, no one sees but me."

"And me," Hermione corrected. "I don't like to look at it. I cast the charm every day. It's nothing."

He ran his hand lightly up her side again, not seeing or feeling anything amiss.

She clenched her teeth.

"Let me see," he said.

She looked him in the eye and sighed. When she dropped the charm, he couldn't help the gasp that escaped his lips. There was a thick red scar that ran from just under her armpit almost to her waist. There was another, older, shorter one that had faded to white and ran diagonally between her breasts. His eyes returned to her side. He blew out a slow breath. "So red, are you sure it is all right? We could see a healer."

"It's fine. According to the healers I've already seen, I've probably got another year or so before it starts to fade to white and most of the tenderness goes away."

"Most?" It looked very painful.

Hermione shrugged and said, "It was a nasty curse, and I didn't get immediate care. Most would be a welcome relief."

He shook his head. "You should have told me before. I have put my hand there, it must hurt, why did you not tell me?"

She shook her head. "I'm not made of porcelain. I won't break."

Viktor cupped her cheek. "I know you are strong. You did not have to hide this from me."

Hermione nodded. "Sorry."

Viktor picked up the jar of balm. "Lay down." As an athlete, he'd dealt with more than his fair share of pain over the years.

She looked at him for a moment before lying down on the bed.

He smoothed the balm around the scar, waiting for the numbing spell to take effect before pressing his thumbs into her side to ease the tension in the muscles that were knotted around the scar tissue.

Hermione moaned her appreciation and he smiled.

When he was finished, Viktor lay down facing her. She leaned over and kissed him softly on the lips. "Thank you."

He kissed her back. "Anytime."

She snuggled against him and they napped for the rest of the afternoon.

xXx

That evening Viktor joined Todor and Filip who were playing with the camera while Hermione went into the kitchen with Boyka and Marianna to cook dinner. Todor was both a painter and a photographer, and he had managed to get the charms done on the old camera so it would float around the house and take pictures by itself.

"This way we get truly candid shots," Todor said. "It will be interesting to see what the camera chooses to snap without me there to direct it. I suspect it will frame things differently than me, but I can always crop afterward. I am curious to see what random, raw photos it will take. A good experiment I think."

Viktor thought that sounded pretty interesting. While Todor explained how he constructed the spell, Filip got up and went into the kitchen. He sat at the table and slowly peeled potatoes. Viktor didn't like the way Filip looked at the women while he worked. There was something off-putting about him. 

After they had eaten dinner and the wine was gone, Marianna got up to make coffee and Boyka began rolling joints for everyone. Viktor declined and was pleased that Hermione did too. He got a bottle of vodka and brought it over to the table. The conversation turned to politics and thus more of it was said in Bulgarian than in English. It was too much to translate everything, but Viktor did his best. After a while, Todor left the table. When Filip pounded on the table and shouted something about Voldemort Hermione excused herself. Viktor touched her hand to make sure she was okay but she gave him a smile so he nodded and continued the heated debate. Filip was such a bastard. Viktor liked him less and less.

The next morning, Viktor woke early, let the owls in with the papers, and took a shower all without waking Hermione. He was pleased when he came out of the bathroom to find her finally awake. "Ah, you are up."

Hermione nodded and then groaned and held her head. "Can I have some of that hangover potion you bought yesterday and a glass of water?"

Viktor smiled, but he was surprised she needed it. "Of course," he went back into the bathroom and came out carrying a small vial and a glass of water. "I did not think you drank so much last night."

"I didn't think so either." She shrugged and downed the contents of the vial. "Thank you," she said and started drinking the water.

"You are welcome. Owls already came this morning. I have been invited to work out with the Netherlands national team."

"Oh," Hermione said, sitting up further.

"Yes. It is a wonderful opportunity."

Hermione smiled at him. "How long will you be training?"

He sat on the edge of the bed next to her. "Most of the day, but I am back in the evening. You do not mind?"

"I think I can entertain myself for a few hours."

He smiled back at her. "Good."

xXx

When Viktor came in from practice, grubby and sweaty from his workout, he found everyone sitting in the parlor listening to music.

Hermione smiled at him from the floor. "How was practice?" 

"Good." He poured himself a glass of juice from a large pitcher on the coffee table. He drained the glass and poured another. "Excellent!" he said wiping his mouth. "I will take a shower and come back." He grabbed a beer from the bucket of ice next to the pitcher of juice.

When he got out of the shower he was still warm from the workout so he just pulled on some joggers and went downstairs. The scene before him was very different from the one he'd left. Everyone was dancing. No one had a shirt on. Hermione danced with Todor, her back against his chest. His hands were low on her hips as they moved together. Viktor was simultaneously upset and curious. It was both weird and enticing to see Todor's hands on her.

He stood scowling in front of Hermione. "What are you doing?"

She pulled him to her and kissed him. "It's okay," she said. "We're only dancing. Come, dance with us."

Viktor nodded and slid his arms around her, sandwiching her between him and Todor as they danced.

The dancing seemed to go on forever, but as the evening progressed and the room got hotter and hotter, clothing became more and more scarce. Viktor didn't understand why he felt so hot and no matter how much juice or beer he drank he was still thirsty. Hermione was naked and sweaty and slipping between him and Todor who were also naked. He couldn't remember when he'd taken his pants off.

Todor said in Bulgarian, "She is very sexy. I want her. Can I have her?"

Without waiting for an answer, he began to tug Hermione to the floor. She made the decision herself by sliding her knees apart to make room for Todor as she pressed back against him. Viktor didn't know how to feel about that. It was upsetting, but it also turned him on.

Hermione looked up at him. "It's alright." She wrapped her hand around his cock.

He was already hard and moaned as she held him.

"Shh," she said, and sank her mouth over him. After that, things got more complicated. Marianna, Boyka, and Filip joined them, but despite having warm, affectionate feelings for everyone else, Viktor continued to dislike Filip. Even in this fuzzy, warm, sexy place, when Filip reached for Hermione, Viktor shoved him off. Filip didn't seem to care and just reached for Marianna instead. Eventually, everyone ran out of energy and they all nodded off on the floor. Viktor made sure to sandwich Hermione safely between him and Todor in case Filip got any ideas during the night.

xXx

He awoke the next morning to the sounds of an argument. His head throbbed. Hermione was already standing up and had on a T-shirt and knickers. The room reeked of sweat and sex and the sour smell of someone's vomit. The argument was getting louder and more heated.

Viktor sat up and moaned, holding his head. "Who is shouting?"

Hermione called a bottle of hangover potion and handed it to him. "Drink this, you'll feel better. I think it must be Boyka and Filip arguing." Marianna was lying naked on the floor on the other side of Todor.

Viktor stood with some difficulty and pulled on his joggers. He surveyed the scene around him and said, "What the hell? Come." He led her into the kitchen, where Filip and Boyka had wands drawn and were still shouting at each other in what Viktor assumed was Dutch. He and Hermione instinctively called their own wands.

Viktor said in Bulgarian "What is going on? Bokya turned to him and Filip took that moment to Apparate away.

Boyka shouted in frustration. She spoke in rapid fire Bulgarian to Viktor. "That bastard—"

"Wait, wait," Hermione said holding up her hands. "In English, please."

Bokya sighed and took a deep breath. "That bastard," she started again, "spiked the pumpkin juice with ecstasy last night. She pressed her fists into her eyes. "Fucking pervert and his lesbian fantasies. Marianna will kill me! I never should have let him come here."

Hermione sat down heavily on one of the kitchen chairs.

A scream came from the living room. They all rushed in to find Marianna sitting up screaming. She'd woken Todor who was scrambling into his trousers as fast as he could. Boyka went to comfort Marianna and Hermione snatched her jeans from the floor and pulled Viktor into the kitchen. Todor followed. Viktor slumped into one of the kitchen chairs.

Hermione pulled on her jeans and she and Todor joined him at the table, staring at the scarred wooden surface and avoiding each other's eyes.

Viktor didn't know what to think, didn't know what to feel even. He had had a lot of sex in his day and had even had the occasional threesome with two female Quidditch fans, but he'd never been in an orgy or had sex in such close proximity to another man. Last night he and Todor had shared Hermione and Boyka and Todor's hands had strayed places that Viktor wasn't entirely comfortable with and he wasn't that sure about where his own hands had been. It left him feeling unsettled and vaguely nauseated. Finally, Viktor said, "What do we do now?"

Todor wiped a hand down his face and shook his head.

Hermione took a deep breath and tapped her finger on the table for a moment. "We make breakfast."

Viktor and Todor both looked at her. "What?" they said simultaneously.

"Look," Hermione said, "you two have known each other a long time, right?"

Viktor nodded. "Always."

"Todor, would you ever intentionally hurt Viktor?"

He shook his head. "No."

She placed her hand on Viktor's arm and looked him in the eye. "Neither would I."

She turned back to Todor, "And you don't want me, right? Aren't you hoping to get that other woman back?"

"Pietra," Todor nodded. "I will get her back. I know she loves me still."

"Good," Hermione said, turning back to Viktor, "Does this kill us for you?"

Viktor frowned at her. "I do not understand the question."

"Can you still be with me, after last night, or is this it for you? It's all right if it is, just be honest."

Viktor shook his head. "I need to take a shower. I cannot think like this."

"Me too," Todor nodded and left the room.

Viktor looked at Hermione before leaving to go upstairs. She looked sad and worried and it tugged at his heartstrings. He shook his head and went upstairs. Based on that magazine article, she had some experience with this situation. He had to admire the way she could set aside everything else and focus on the immediate problem. He was sure that skill was honed during the war. The shower made him feel better but he was still not sure of how he felt about the situation. He couldn't help thinking about that article about Hermione, Ron, and Harry during the war. Perhaps, she liked having sex with more than one man. She might even prefer it. He didn't have anything against that, but it wasn't the sort of relationship he'd been looking for from her. He sighed and got dressed and went back downstairs.

Hermione was casting a heating charm on the casserole when he stuck his head in the doorway of the kitchen. "I am going for a walk to clear my head."

She bit her bottom lip and her brow wrinkled with concern but she nodded. "Of course." 

The walk seemed to help. Movement helped him think. He decided that none of this was Hermione's fault. She hadn't asked to come here. He had invited her. Okay, so according to that article maybe she'd been in a threesome before, so had he, but in her case it had been with men she'd known for years and during an intense time of the war when they were isolated and on the run. Last night was nothing like that. She hadn't decided to be involved any more than he had. It really wasn't anyone's decision because Filip had spiked the pumpkin juice without telling them. With the exception of Filip, no one involved intended for it to happen. While he had never wanted to do something like that with Todor, if he had to do it, he was glad it was with Todor. He'd actually dated Boyka some years ago and Marianna seemed like a sweet girl. Filip was the only real monster there. The others were good people. He knew his relationship with Hermione was new, but he thought they could get past this. She was worth trying to anyway. He hadn't been so happy since Nikolina had died. He didn't want to lose that happiness over one drug-fueled night that neither of them had intended.

As he approached the rear of the house, he'd made up his mind to talk to Hermione and Todor and get beyond the events of last night, but then he saw them on the back step. Hermione was bent over a candle and Todor was holding a tube over a small piece of foil for her. They were smoking heroin. Todor had sworn he was clean, which was the only reason Viktor had agreed to go to Amsterdam in the first place and now the bastard had Hermione doing it. Viktor's rage was so sudden and overwhelming that he literally saw red. He kicked over the candle and yelled at Todor in Bulgarian.

"What are you doing? You're supposed to be clean!"

Todor started pleading with him immediately and teared up but Hermione looked at him with sleepy eyes. Viktor wrenched her up by her arm and dragged her upstairs to their room and into the bathroom where he conjured a bathtub full of iced water. He dragged her over to it and forced her to her knees.

"What were you thinking?" he hissed as he dunked her head into the freezing cold water.

She gasped for air as he pulled her back up. "I-"

"Why smoke heroin? Why do that?" He dunked her again. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

This time she came up sputtering "Heroin? No, you inject heroin, we were just smoking."

"Inject, smoke, snort. You can do all with heroin and Todor has done all. Idiot!" He pushed her head back under the water.

"Wait," she cried as he pulled her back up. "Viktor, please stop."

"You are witch, you stop me!" He dunked her again still furious with her.

"Please!" she sobbed when he brought her back up.

"He told me he quit," Viktor growled, "but instead he gets you to smoke." He pushed her back under.

When he brought her back up, she spat out a mouth full of water and coughed. "I asked him if I could have some. He said it would make the pain go away. I just wanted the pain to go away."

Viktor stared at her for a moment. He didn't understand how she could be so broken. What had happened to her since he'd known her before? "Idiot!" he shouted again and pushed her back under.

But apparently, she'd had enough and the cold water had brought back enough of her senses that when he pulled her up again she blew him across the room with a wandless non-verbal.

He grinned at her. She was a powerful witch; that was certain. Even soaking wet and trembling, she exuded a power that made his cock throb. He had never been with anyone like her. "You are fine," he said as he crawled toward her. He took her there on the filthy floor. He fucked her fast and hard and wasn't at all surprised when she thrust back against him, bit his shoulder and his neck, and came as he did. When they were done, he helped her to her feet and they showered. When they were both clean and feeling more like themselves, Viktor said, "I do not want to be here anymore. We should go home."

Hermione nodded. It didn't take long to pack. As they were on their way out the front door, Todor followed them.

"Viktor," he called. "Viktor."

Viktor turned and glowered at him. It was all he could do not to punch him in the mouth. "What?"

"I am sorry," Todor said. "I am so sorry. I try to quit. I swear I try to quit."

Unable to hold back any longer, Viktor grabbed him by the front of his shirt. "You told me you had quit. That is the only reason I came. Do you think I would have brought her here if I had known you were still using? You disgust me." He flung Todor to the ground where he lay sobbing into his hands. He restrained himself from kicking him and turned back to Hermione. "I want to get the hell out of here."

She held out the empty beer bottle that was their return Portkey and tapped it with her wand to activate it. A moment later he felt the tell-tale pull behind his navel. What felt like hours later, but was only a few minutes, they landed in the back garden of her townhouse. She promptly vomited on the shrubbery and he held back her hair as she continued to retch. Finally, she stood up straight and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "That just never gets easier, does it?"

"It does," Viktor said kindly. "But long trips take a while to get used to."

She nodded and Viktor followed her into the house. She eased into one of the parlor chairs and rested her face in her hands. "I'm exhausted."

Viktor sat on the sofa next to her. "Me too."

She looked at him with tears running down her cheeks. "What the hell just happened?"

He shook his head. "I do not know." He felt empty inside, sad and angry.

"My whole body hurts," she said.

He nodded. He ached all over. "Mine too."

They sat in silence for a while. Hermione continued quietly crying. Viktor stared at the empty fireplace. Sometime later, he got up and built a fire, lighting it with his wand before returning to the sofa and continuing to stare. He wasn't even thinking. There was too much to contemplate so his mind remained blank. Night came and the room darkened around them. Neither of them bothered to light a lamp. Finally, Hermione said, "I have to go to bed."

Viktor took her hand as she stood. "Do you mind if I stay with you? I cannot face being alone tonight."

"Come on," she said, and he followed her upstairs to the room he'd stayed in on Christmas Eve. They got undressed in silence, neither of them commenting on the bruises on their bodies or the rug burns on their elbows and knees. Neither offered to heal the other. They each made the choice to wear pajamas and got under the covers but didn't touch. It was both awkward and comforting.


	4. Consequences

Viktor stayed with Hermione for the rest of the week, which was filled with long silences. They continued to share a bed without touching. Hermione had trouble sleeping, and when she did manage to drop off, she had disturbing dreams. Each day she planned to get something accomplished on the house but often found herself randomly staring out the window at the typical London winter gloom. She often caught Viktor doing the same. She wondered what he was thinking but didn't ask him. Her own thoughts were a jumble of what happened in Amsterdam and what she could have done to avoid it. The list seemed endless as did her self-recrimination. Sometimes, she would just start crying. She thought a lot about smoking with Todor and how nice it would be to reach for some of that oblivion, but heroin wasn't the answer. She knew that, and hated that she even considered it, but it sat like an uncomfortable and persistent itch at the back of her mind. She found wine to be a useful balm for that itch.

On Friday morning, when Hermione got up, Viktor was making breakfast in the kitchen. When she walked in, he was plating eggs and bacon. He'd made coffee and she poured herself a cup instead of bothering with tea. He handed her a plate and they sat down. "I need to finish furnishing my flat," he said.

She looked at him.

"Could you help me with that today?"

She nodded, the prospect of finally leaving the house lifted her spirits. "Of course."

xXx

After breakfast, she took a shower. As she sat at her dressing table to do her hair, Viktor came to stand behind her. "Would you consider doing it like it was done for the ball?"

She looked at him through the mirror. "That's a little elaborate for furniture shopping, don't you think?"

He shrugged. "If it is too much trouble, do not worry about it."

"I'll see what I can do." In the end, she just cast a spell to straighten it and used a bit of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion to keep it that way. When she came downstairs, he was pulling on his boots. He looked up at her and smiled. "I like it."

She chuckled. "All right then. Are you ready?"

He stood. "Yes."

They Apparated to Diagon Alley and went to the furniture shop. They managed almost a half an hour of shopping before any photographers showed up. After a few more minutes, Viktor settled on a deep green velvet sofa, two dark purple velvet chairs with matching ottomans, and a copper-topped coffee table for his parlor along with a simple cottage style oak table and chairs for his kitchen. As he paid at the till, Hermione leaned against the counter and let the photographers take their photos. She felt oddly bold. Perhaps, it was the new hairdo or maybe it was the overwhelming sense of nothing left to lose.

Heads held high, she and Viktor went past the photographers to the street where they Apparated to his building. The furniture would be delivered in a few hours, so it was just a matter of waiting. As they stepped into his flat, Viktor took her coat along with his own and put them on hooks by the door. She went into the parlor and stared out of the balcony doors at the street below. No photographers yet. It was starting to rain pretty hard though, so they probably wouldn't bother. Viktor came to stand behind her. He didn't touch her, but she could feel his presence. "Hermione," he said softly. "Can I…? I would like to…" He blew out a nervous breath. "I have missed…"

She turned and kissed him, at first gently and then with more ardor. When he finally pulled back from the kiss, she took his hand and led him to the bedroom. She had missed touching him too. All week, she'd felt sick and dirty, undesirable, but she hadn't felt that way about him. As he gave her hand a happy squeeze, she wondered if he'd felt that way about himself.

xXx

Someone pounding on the front door woke them both from a sound sleep late that afternoon. Having not slept well since they'd returned from Amsterdam, it irritated her to be woken.

Viktor cursed and rolled out of bed, reaching for his trousers. "The furniture is here."

"Oh!" Hermione sat up and reached for her own clothes.

Viktor was buttoning his shirt as he headed out of the room, closing the door behind him. Hermione quickly finished getting dressed, cast a cleaning charm on herself, and waited for the movers to leave before she went into the parlor.

Viktor was looking at the room arrangement. "What do you think?"

"It looks great." 

"I still need to do the other spare room, but I think that can wait."

"Yes," she agreed. "This is all you really need."

He sat on the sofa and held out a hand to her. "Come sit."

She sat next to him and he turned to face her. Taking her hands in his, he said, "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Taking you to Amsterdam. I did not anticipate—"

She squeezed his hands. "Of course, you didn't. That wasn't your fault."

He shook his head. "It was my responsibility. I should have confirmed that Todor was clean before I agreed to see him. Heroin is a terrible master. He has been fighting it for years. I wanted to believe he had finally beaten it."

Hermione stroked his cheek. She could easily see how heroin was so addictive. "Don't be too hard on him. He offered, but I accepted. I didn't ask what it was and that's my fault. I have my own culpability, but some of it wasn't my fault or yours. Did you know there was hash in the brownies the first night?"

Viktor's eyes widened. "No. They did not say."

"I didn't know either until Boyka told me the next day. I had two. It made for a very weird night."

"You did not tell me."

She sighed. "No, because I knew it would upset you, but in hindsight, if I had told you—"

"We would have left the next morning," he said firmly.

"Yes," Hermione said sadly. "I regret so much not telling you. Everything could have been avoided if I'd just said something. Or if I'd gone upstairs with you after you got back from training. There are so many things I wish I'd done differently."

He put his arm around her and she pressed her face against his chest as he held her tight. "It is okay. There is plenty of regret and blame to go around. Do not worry. We will be fine."

She snuggled closer to him. All week she'd been waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to tell her he was leaving and not coming back, but instead, he'd said they'd be fine, and for the first time all week, she felt like that might be true. 

xXx

The next day, Hermione popped back to her own place to pick up her mail and change her clothes and pick up a few things to leave at Viktor's. He'd offered her a couple of drawers and a shelf in the bathroom. She'd accepted. She flipped through the mail quickly until she came upon a letter from the ministry. She dropped the rest of the mail and held up the letter. She blew out a nervous breath and opened the envelope. In a minute, she would be an Unspeakable, or she'd have to start looking for another job. 

She was an Unspeakable. She squealed with delight and immediately thought to send letters to Ron and Harry. She'd actually picked up a quill before she remembered that they no longer cared what she was doing. She put down the quill. She looked around at the kitchen of her childhood home, which belonged to her now. That was her new normal. There would be no celebratory dinner at the Burrow. She closed her eyes to compose herself. Ron told her to leave, and she hadn't fought it, because she thought it was the best thing to do for both of them. She'd known at the time that it would be hard, but she hadn't realized it would be as hard as it was. She hadn't considered that walking away from Ron meant walking away from her whole life. She pushed a tear off her cheek and went upstairs to collect her things. At least Viktor would care.

He was delighted with the news when she arrived back at his place. He gave her a big hug. "We should celebrate. I have just gotten an invitation to have dinner with my team captain but I can cancel if you would rather go to a nice restaurant. What do you want to do?"

Hermione's first impulse was to say no to both. She wasn't in the mood for the public spectacle that dinner out would be. She wasn't sure she was up for dinner with someone she didn't know either, but it was clear Viktor wanted to go. "We should go to dinner at your team captain's place. That doesn't sound like the sort of thing you should turn down."

He smiled and slid his hands around her waist, "What could we do to celebrate before then?"

She smiled back at him.

He kissed her passionately. "I am thinking I have a good idea."

She chuckled as he took her hand and led her into the bedroom.

xXx

The team captain for Puddlemere United only lived a few blocks from Viktor in Diagon Alley. As they took the tiny elevator up to the flat, it occurred to Hermione that Viktor hadn't told her the captain's name.

"Viktor?" she said, as the elevator door opened. She followed him out.

"Ah," Viktor said. "Apartment 1. We are here." He knocked on the door.

Oliver Wood opened it. "Viktor," he said, thrusting out his hand. "Glad you could make it." Hermione stepped from behind Viktor and Oliver's mouth dropped open. "My goodness, Hermione?"

She smiled. "Hullo, Oliver."

"Oh," Viktor said, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "You two know each other?"

"We were both in Gryffindor House at Hogwarts. He graduated at the end of my third year," Hermione explained.

"Right," Oliver said. "Well, come in you two." He gave Hermione a confused look as she stepped into the flat. "Let me get your coats." He hung them on pegs by the door.

Viktor handed him a bottle of vodka that he'd brought.

"Thanks. Why don't you two have a seat. Can I get you something to drink? Wine, whiskey, beer, pumpkin juice?" He held up the vodka bottle. "Or some of this."

"Wine would be great," Hermione said.

"For me too," Viktor said.

"Red okay?" Oliver asked.

They both nodded before taking a seat on the sofa. It was a large flat, and nicely furnished with an emphasis on Oliver's Scottish roots. There were framed maps of Scotland and the Outer Hebrides on the walls of the parlor. The sofa and two wing chairs were upholstered in a muted black watch plaid.

Oliver stepped out of the kitchen and handed them each a glass of wine before taking a seat in one of the chairs. "Thanks so much for joining me for dinner."

"Thank you for the invitation," Viktor said. He was sitting very straight and Hermione was amused to realize he was nervous.

"I thought it would be nice to get to know you a bit before training starts next week." He looked at Hermione. "I didn't realize you two were together."

She smiled at him. "Not one for reading the paper then, Oliver?"

"Only the sports section."

Viktor took Hermione's hand. "We dated when I was at Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament. Then we ran into each other Christmas Eve and—"

"Picked up where we left off," Hermione finished for him.

Viktor smiled at her. "Yes."

"Well, that's great," Oliver said, but his expression had less enthusiasm than his words.

"Did you two know each other well in school?" Viktor asked, clearly trying to suss out the reason for Oliver's strange expression.

"Not really," Oliver said. "Her friend Harry was the Seeker for our house team."

"Ah, yes," Viktor said. "Harry Potter. He was a Triwizard Champion too. I liked him."

"Well, everyone does, don't they?" Oliver said. He looked at Hermione. "I mean Harry, you, and Ron saved the world, right? You're a bona fide war hero."

Hermione could feel herself blush. "I don't feel much like a hero."

"But you are one," Oliver said. "I feel like I should've had Pippa make a fancier dinner."

"Pippa?" Hermione asked.

"My family's house elf," Oliver said. "She was nice enough to come down and make dinner for tonight. Generally, she's at my parent's place in Edinburgh."

"Oh," Hermione said.

"Listen is it true that at the battle of—"

"Oliver," Hermione leaned forward and touched his arm. "I don't mean to be rude, but I don't like to talk about the war."

"Oh," Oliver said. "Oh, of course. Sure. I understand."

"Where's your loo?" Hermione asked.

"Just down the hall on the right," Oliver said.

She stood and went down the hall, forcing herself to walk at a normal pace when all she wanted to do was run. What she really wanted to do was leave, but she couldn't do that either. Oliver was just curious. Everyone was, but she didn't want to talk about the war and even more than that, she didn't want to talk about Ron and Harry. It was too painful. On the other hand, she was Viktor's girlfriend now. He was new to the country, new to the team, and he needed her support. She looked in the bathroom mirror and blew out a slow, calming breath. She could do this. It was just dinner. When she returned to the parlor, Viktor and Oliver were deep in conversation about Quidditch. She smiled at the animation in their faces and took her seat next to Viktor.

Dinner was delicious, although Oliver commented again that he wished he'd known Hermione was coming. Apparently, Viktor had only mentioned that he was bringing his girlfriend but hadn't mentioned her by name.

"You can't just say you're bringing your girlfriend when you're bringing Hermione Granger," Oliver scolded Viktor. "If you're bringing a bloody national treasure, people like to be warned, don't they?"

Hermione blushed and Viktor chuckled and squeezed her hand under the table. "I will not make this mistake again."

Despite Oliver's insistence that dinner wasn't appropriate, Hermione thought the cock-a-leekie soup and tattie scones were delicious. "Pippa is an excellent cook," she told Oliver.

"I'll tell her you said so," he replied. "She's already popped back home. I know she doesn't approve of me living in the flat. She thinks I should live at home until I get married. But who wants to Apparate from Edinburgh to Dorset every day. Can you imagine how tired I'd be after a couple of days of that?"

Hermione nodded. "That does sound a bit extreme, but I don't think Apparition is as taxing for elves."

"No," Viktor said. "It does not seem to be."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "I didn't realize your family had a house elf."

"They do not anymore," Viktor said darkly.

"Well," Oliver said. "It's taxing for me and popping from here to Dorset is enough."

"Excuse me," Viktor said. He stood and walked down the hall toward the loo.

Hermione helped Oliver take the bowls and plates into the kitchen. He set his in the sink and turned to take the ones she was holding. "I thought you were with Ron," he said quietly.

She shook her head. "Not since before Christmas."

"I don't understand. What happened?" Oliver asked.

She closed her eyes and willed herself not to cry. She looked at him. "The war left us in pieces. We just couldn't make it work." That seemed like as good an explanation as any and at least it was succinct.

He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry to hear that. Viktor seems like a good guy though."

Hermione smiled. "He is."

Oliver smiled back at her. "Good. You deserve to be happy. Dessert?"

"Always."

Oliver got two glass bowls out of the icebox. Hermione got the third and they headed back into the parlor as Viktor was coming back in from the hall.

"Tipsy laird?" Oliver said, holding up one of the dessert dishes.

"Sure," Viktor said. "What is it?"

"It looks like trifle," Hermione said.

"Basically," Oliver said. "It's the Scottish version. We used to have the English version at school, but it's not the same without the cherries and Drambuie."

"Drambuie?" Viktor said.

"A fine Scottish liqueur," Oliver said. "You'll love it. Everyone does."

Viktor looked at Hermione for confirmation. "He's right," she said. "Drambuie is delicious."

"See," Oliver said, handing Viktor a bowl. They ate dessert and talked about anything and everything. After they finished eating, they sat in the parlor in front of the fire and continued their conversation over brandy. Both Oliver and Viktor had grown up in magical homes, so they were both curious about what they saw as Hermione's exotic upbringing. She laughed at some of their questions. She and Viktor hadn't talked much about their childhoods. She knew from their trip to Bulgaria to get his things that life with his parents had been a challenge, but she hadn't shared much about her own family. It was still painful to talk about them, but whether it was the alcohol or the company, it was easier to talk that night. She and Viktor finally walked back to his flat after midnight.

xXx

She took his arm as they walked through the night. She was feeling the effects of all the drinking and didn't feel too steady on her feet.

Viktor smiled as he put his hand over hers on his arm. "I think you are the only witch I have ever dated who was more famous than me."

Hermione snorted. "Oh, please. Catch a few snitches and you'll be right back in the limelight."

He chuckled. "That is not what I meant. It is nice to be with someone who understands the notoriety in their own right, not just because of being with me."

She nodded. "I understand it all right."

"Why do you hate it so much?"

She sighed. "It's not like it is with you. When people see you, they get excited, because you remind them of something good. They saw you play and going to the match was a big deal. They probably went with friends or family and had a great day. Or maybe they wish they could fly like you do. You're very impressive on a broom."

He looked at her and frowned. "You have seen me play?"

She cleared her throat and could feel herself blush. "Yes."

"When?"

"I saw you at the World Cup. A friend had tickets."

"You never said when we were in school!"

"I didn't want you thinking I was some Quidditch fangirl. That's not why I liked you."

He stopped and pulled her to him. "Oh, and why did you like me?"

Her face got hotter. "You were serious and a reader. I liked that you hung out in the library like I did. You're smart. That's very appealing."

"Yes. I was also an older man from an exotic country, and I have a sexy accent." He winked at her.

She laughed. "All true."

He smiled and they continued walking. As they approached his building he said, "So what do you imagine people think when they see you?"

She'd hoped they were done with this conversation. He held open the door to his building and she walked in. "It's different with me. Since the breakup with Ron, I get a lot of dirty looks. Even before that though, I was associated with the war. Those weren't happy days."

"You were essential in bringing about the end of the war. Those were happy days."

She nodded as she pushed the elevator call button. "Maybe for other people."

Viktor arched an eyebrow at her. "You didn't want the war to end?"

"Of course, I did. I just wasn't prepared for what it would cost me." The elevator doors opened and they stepped inside. "I lost everything that mattered," she said softly.

Viktor took her in his arms and held her tight. "I know. Me too, but we will rebuild. We have jobs now and each other. We will make new friends, build a new life. People will stop caring that you and Ron are not together. You will see. It will be fine."

She nodded against his chest and hoped he was right.

The elevator doors opened and they went into his flat. As Hermione was removing her heels, she said, "Listen, I'm sorry about earlier."

"About what?" Viktor said, as he took off his jacket.

"Asking about the elf. It seemed to upset you."

He hung up his jacket and sat down on the sofa. "It is alright. I told you my father gambles."

"Yes," Hermione said, sitting next to him.

"At one point, he was a very successful Beater with the Vrasta Vultures as well as on the national team. We lived in a big house and had an elf and many nice things, but eventually he gambled it all away. I was very upset about Mila. We were close. She basically raised me."

She bit back a comment about the horror of gambling away a house elf like it was furniture. 

"I bought the house they live in now and provide them with a monthly income. As I told you before, my father resents this."

"I'm sorry."

Viktor shrugged. "I used to have a large flat in the city that I shared with Nikolina, but I sold it after the war. Too many memories. Although, moving in with my parents was stupid. Not good for any of us." He took her hand. "You were close with your parents, yes?"

She nodded. "They were always very supportive. Frightened for me sometimes, but they understood why I was doing what I was doing."

He touched her cheek. "They must have been very proud."

Her smiled saddened. "Yeah." She stood. "I'm going to get changed."

xXx

On Monday Morning, Viktor left for training and Hermione left for the Ministry of Magic. She was paired with Thomas Greene and he spent the week initiating her into life in the Department of Mysteries. She was allowed to tell any adult she trusted what she did for a living, but she wasn't allowed to mention anyone she worked with. If asked by others what she did for a living she could say 'research and development' at the Ministry. That wasn't really a lie since most of what the Department of Mysteries did fell into research and development, it just happened to be in very powerful magic that was denied to the actual Department of Research and Development. Thomas gave her a thorough overview of all the current projects in place including his own. She was expected to come up with her own project by the end of the first month. He also showed Hermione to her rooms. Each of the Unspeakables had their own office which included a small bedroom with a single bed and a tiny lavatory with a toilet, sink, and shower. Some projects, Thomas explained, required continuous oversight. He told her that Unspeakables set their own schedules, often worked long hours, and then when a project was completed, or a phase of it was completed, they took time off to recharge and come back with new ideas. Hermione thought that sounded like the perfect way to work.

When she explained it all to Viktor he seemed less enthusiastic about the hours. "Do you really want to sleep at work?"

"It's not like it will be every night. Besides isn't that what you do when you have a string of away games?"

He sighed. "I suppose. Speaking of games, our first match is on Saturday in Wales against the Caerphilly Catapults. Will you come?"

She kissed him. "Of course."

xXx

Hermione was tired Saturday morning when she took a Portkey to Wales. She'd had a long week of twelve-hour days in the Department of Mysteries trying to familiarize herself with all the current projects and racking her brain trying to think of a project of her own. The other Unspeakables were brilliant, innovative, eccentric, and creative. Just being around them made her feel dull, staid, plain, and boring. Thomas had told her everyone felt that way at first and that she just had to get comfortable in freeing her mind to be open to all the possibilities in the magic around her. He'd asked her when she had performed her most creative moments of magic and she realized it had usually happened when her life was threatened, but that didn't seem like a reasonable course of action for moving forward, so she'd spent most of the week trying to open up, which hadn't been easy. Viktor would have a few days off after the game, so she thought she'd discuss it with him.

She was seated with friends and family of the Quidditch team in great seats. She was right on the rail where she could see all of the action. It occurred to her that Harry, Ron, and Ginny would love these seats, but then Viktor flew out with the rest of Puddlemere United and thoughts of her old life slipped away.

The game was tense. Puddlemere United were down by seventy points when Viktor caught sight of the Snitch. The Caerphilly Catapults' Seeker saw it too and the chase to catch it while the Beaters tried to stop them was harrowing. Hermione was on her feet screaming with the rest of the fans. When Viktor's fingers closed over the Snitch as he pulled up and barrel rolled to avoid a Bludger, Hermione's arms shot into the air. The announcer called the game for Puddlemere United and a third of the stadium went wild, while the rest groaned. Viktor flew a victory lap around the stadium, caught sight of Hermione, and flew in close to her, leaned over his broom and gave her a big kiss. Even with her eyes closed she could see all the camera flashes going off. _Oh well,_ she thought, _i_ _n for a penny..._ When they parted, he gave her a big grin and winked at her before he flew off to rejoin the rest of the team.

Hermione followed the others down to where they would wait for the team to come out of the locker room. As they stood around chatting, Hermione realized that she was experiencing regular adult life. People who weren't pressured to save the world stood around chatting while they waited for their loved ones and then they went out to dinner or perhaps to a party. She smiled. Regular life wasn't so bad.

Most of the team went out to dinner together, some of the couples with children declined, but everyone else was soon piled around a long table in a private room at an inn on the street in Cardiff that corresponded to Diagon Alley in London. Toward the end of dinner, the coach announced that there would be a party at her place.

xXx

After a week of long hours and stress over measuring up at work, Hermione had a strong desire to forget about work and relax. She and Viktor danced and drank champagne and generally enjoyed themselves all night. It was well after midnight when they stumbled laughing out of the Floo and over to the sofa at her place. Viktor kissed her rather sloppily and she pulled away.

"Wait, come back," he said, reaching for her as she stood.

She stepped out of his reach, suddenly anxious about how much he'd had to drink. The adrenaline pushed back her own buzz. She felt nervous and sober.

"What is wrong?" Viktor said, sitting back against the cushions.

She shook her head. "Nothing. I just…why don't I make us some tea."

"At this hour?" Viktor said, confused as he watched her hurry from the room. He stood and followed her. "Hermione?" he said, as he stepped into the kitchen. She was about to flick her wand at the kettle but turned when he said her name. When she glanced nervously at the table, and adjusted her grip on her wand, he realized what the problem was. "Hey," he said, holding up his palms. "I have had a few drinks, but I am not so drunk that I would hurt you. I will never be that drunk."

She blinked at him and tried to hold herself together, biting her lip to keep from crying.

Viktor slowly approached her and gently put his arms around her. "You are safe with me. It is okay."

She pressed her forehead against his chest. "No, it's not."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She shook her head.

"Do you still want a cup of tea?"

She shook her head again.

"We will go to bed then, yes?"

She leaned back, wiped her face with her hands, and nodded. "Okay."

He took her hand and led her upstairs.

She went into the bathroom and Viktor stripped and put on a fresh pair of boxers before slipping into bed. When Hermione came back into the bedroom, she was wearing a short cotton gown and slipped in beside him on her back before saying "Nox" to put out the lamp. Viktor rolled toward her on his side. "You know you can tell me anything. I will not repeat it."

"I know," she said softly.

"It is not good that you do not talk about this."

"You're probably right, but I'm not going to."

He sighed. "I am sorry I drank so much tonight."

"You're fine," she said. "It's not about you. It's my hang up, not yours."

"Hang up?" he said, confused by the term.

"Issue, problem. It's about me. You didn't do anything wrong. You're not even that drunk."

He tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "I am still sorry."

"Don't be," she said, rolling toward him. "I had a really good time tonight. It was nice to get out of my head for a bit and have fun."

"Out of your head?" he said, confused again by her turn of phrase.

"Sometimes, I have a hard time getting my mind to be quiet. Dancing is one of the things that does that for me. The drinking doesn't hurt either."

He smiled. "You are a good dancer."

She smiled back. "So are you."

"What else quiets your mind?"

Her smile widened and she ran her hand over his chest. "Well…"

He chuckled and leaned in to kiss her. This time, she kissed him back.

xXx

The next few weeks flew by. Hermione continued at the Ministry. The work in the Department of Mysteries was fascinating and the freedom and resources that came with being an Unspeakable was tremendous. She was floored by the sheer amount of magic she was allowed to do without oversight. After a week of essentially playing with the possibilities and all the resources available, she had settled into her first project.

Viktor was having a good season. Puddlemere United was up four to one when the team left to start a two-week tour of European away games. It was the first time Hermione had been left on her own for a significant length of time since she'd started dating him. It was also the first time she hadn't attended his games, but her project was reaching a critical stage and she didn't want to leave.

Initially, she thought the anxiety of being on her own was making her sick. She was working too much and not sleeping enough, and her meals had been hit or miss, but on the third day that she woke up nauseous, she started to question the cause. She realized she hadn't had a period in a while, but that wasn't unusual. Her periods had always been erratic and had only gotten worse during the war when she often went without adequate nutrition. She knew that she and Viktor were always very careful about the charm, but she didn't recall anyone casting it in Amsterdam, and she knew neither she nor Ron cast it the last night they were together.

She wiped her mouth and flushed the toilet, watching the contents of her stomach swirl away from her. She held out her hand as she walked through the bedroom and her wand flew into it. She went downstairs to the study and pulled out a medical spell book. She flipped to the reproduction section and taught herself the spell to see if she was pregnant. It was a simple spell, a basic incantation and a slight flip of the wrist with the wand directed at her belly. Her wand glowed green and she sat down hard on her desk chair. She pressed her hands to her face. _Oh, what have I done?_ With an overwhelming sense of shame, she realized she had no idea who the father was. The realization sent her running to the powder room to be sick again. When she was done, she sat on the floor with tears steadily streaming down her face.

Her mind was racing. If it was Ron's, there was no way she would be able to pass off a red-headed child as anything but his, and if it was Ron's, it would definitely have red hair. All the Weasley children did, all the way back through the entire line. It was part of their magic. She couldn't go back to Ron now, even if he'd have her. She couldn't live with him if he was still drinking like he was and she wouldn't bring a child into that mess either, but she couldn't keep their child away from him and his family either. She wouldn't even want to, but she wasn't sure how it would work. Part of her thought perhaps a child could be her way home, but she quickly brushed that thought aside. It wouldn't be that easy. And then there was Viktor. She couldn't imagine that they could raise Ron's child together. But if it was Viktor's child, that wouldn't be so bad. Viktor was kind and they got along well. It was still early days, but things were good. Maybe they could make it work. They hadn't really talked about the future. They'd only been dating a couple of months, but maybe it would be okay, but then there was Todor. It couldn't be Todor's. It could be, but it couldn't be. That would be…that would be impossible. She thought of Todor with his curly black hair and blue eyes. She remembered him sliding inside her. She shook her head. It couldn't be Todor.

She got up and went into the study to comb through her old photo albums for a picture of Ron, when she found one, she brought it into the kitchen and opened the newspaper to the sports section which had a picture of Viktor in a story about Puddlemere United's change of fortune with him as Seeker. She set Ron's picture next to Viktor's and checked the spell book for the appropriate spell to determine paternity. Like the pregnancy spell, it was fairly simple. She cast "Revelio Paternitas" and nothing happened. One of the pictures should have glowed green. She checked the spell in the book and cast it again. Nothing happened. An icy chill went through her. She Disapparated to Viktor's flat and went into his study where he kept his photo albums. As she was flipping through one, looking for a picture of Todor, she had an even more terrifying thought. She couldn't remember if she'd had sex with Filip. Most of the evening was a blur. She didn't think she had, but she couldn't really remember. She'd woken the next morning on the floor between Viktor and Todor, so she'd assumed she'd only been with them, but now she wasn't so sure. Another wave of nausea hit and she had to run to the toilet. There was nothing left on her stomach so she just stood in Viktor's bathroom dry heaving. When she was able to stop, she went into Viktor's kitchen and made herself a cup of weak tea and drank it with a couple of digestive biscuits. She didn't feel so bad with something on her stomach, so she went back into the study and cast Revelio Paternitas again. The picture of Todor glowed green. She actually felt a sense of relief. At least it wasn't Filip. Of course, once that feeling passed, she was still stuck with the reality of Todor, a drug addict she barely knew, as the father. For a panicked moment, she considered not telling Viktor that Todor was the father. After all, they weren't just best friends, Todor was Viktor's cousin. They bore a passing resemblance to one another. She shook her head. She couldn't do that. She had to be honest, no matter what the outcome. She wondered if Viktor would want her to have an abortion. Then she wondered if maybe that's just what she should do. If she did, maybe she shouldn't say anything to anyone. She sat on Viktor's sofa and pulled her knees up to her chest. She desperately wanted her mother right then. She needed advice and comfort, but even if she wanted to try talking to Molly or Ginny, it would mean explaining how she found herself in that situation and she couldn't face that. In the end, it came down to a handful of options: have an abortion and tell no one, tell Viktor and ask what he thought she should do, or have the baby despite what Viktor thought.

She needed to walk. Unfortunately, she'd Apparated to Viktor's flat in her dressing gown. She Apparated back to her parents' house, changed, and went out the front door into Muggle London. She walked for hours. By the time she got home, she felt frozen to the core, but she knew what she was going to do.

Viktor wouldn't be home for a few more days, so she went back to work and tried not to think about the baby, but it was hard not to when she woke up sick every morning. She made an appointment with a healer for the following week. She wondered fleetingly if Viktor would still be in her life by the time the appointment rolled around. The thought of doing this on her own made her stomach twist, but the idea of not doing it felt even worse. She'd always assumed she'd have children, but of course, she'd never thought it would be under these circumstances. Still, she wasn't going to destroy an opportunity to have a family again. She couldn't. She had a good job, a place to live, she could afford childcare. It would be hard. She knew it would be hard, but she'd done difficult things before. Of course, people would assume the child was Viktor's. She wasn't sure how they would handle that. He wouldn't want to be seen as abandoning a child. She closed her eyes. The scandal would be monumental. She could only imagine the field day _Witch Weekly_ would have. It exhausted her to even contemplate it, but she'd been through scandals before and survived. She could keep a stiff upper lip when she needed to and she was definitely going to need to.

xXx

When Viktor came home from his away games, she didn't say anything about the baby. He was so happy to be home and they'd won all but one of the matches, so she didn't want to bring him down. He had a few days off before training started again, so she took time off to be with him. The first night he was back they went to a house party on the Cornish coast. To Muggles the house looked like a ruined castle, just an outline on the ground that they could walk over, but to the magical community all the walls were still in place and it was fantastic. The main hall had a balcony that ran all the way around it and led to all the upstairs bedrooms. Downstairs was the big open hall and off of that were the kitchen, what used to be the armory, and various other rooms. The hall had been emptied of all its furniture and was being used as a dance floor for the party. Hermione was surprised to hear Muggle music mixed in with the Weird Sisters and other magical groups. Then she saw that Dean Thomas was the DJ and she understood. She and Dean had often talked about Muggle music in the common room of Gryffindor tower. Seeing him brought a smile to her face until she realized that, if Dean were there, other Gryffindors from their year might be as well. She scanned the crowded room but didn't see Ron or Harry. Perhaps Dean was just the DJ and didn't live in the house. Viktor had said ten people lived in the castle, but he only knew his teammate. He grabbed her hand and led her out on to the dance floor. Thankfully, her nausea always subsided by late morning, and it felt good to dance and let go of her cares for a while.


	5. Ron Without Hermione

Ron didn't want to go to the party. He'd been holed up in the flat over Weasley's Wizard Wheezes drinking and being generally miserable ever since Hermione left. These days he never went further than The Leaky Cauldron.

Harry Apparated into the flat and folded his arms over his chest. "Come on, Ron, get in the shower. You have to get out of this apartment. Gin's going to be here in a little while."

Ron ignored him. "Did you see this?" He held up a weeks-old copy of _The Daily Prophet._ There was a photo from Viktor's first game when he kissed Hermione at the end of his victory lap.

"Yeah," Harry said. "I saw it. Come on, get up."

Ron stared down at the paper crumpled in his hand. "She's fucking him, you know."

"You don't know that," Harry said, his eyes shifting away.

"Oh, please," Ron said, shuffling through some other papers on the coffee table until he came up with the first gossip column that showed Viktor and Hermione outside of Honeydukes. In the photo, Viktor wiped whipped cream off the end of her nose with his thumb over and over. "Do you see the way he's touching her here? So casually. He's already fucked her. I can tell."

Harry sighed. "You have to stop looking at those. Get in the shower. Seriously mate, when was the last time you bathed or even cast a cleaning charm? It's pretty ripe in here."

Ron looked up at him. "I can't bloody stand this."

"I know," Harry said. "But go take a shower. I'll make some sandwiches. You'll feel better if you eat something. Please, I promised Ginny."

"How could she do this to me?" 

Harry pulled out his wand. "Ron, get in the shower, or I'll put you in there myself."

He looked at Harry's wand. "Yeah, okay." He shuffled off to the bathroom.

xXx

Harry sighed. "Dobby!"

The little elf appeared. "Yes, Harry Potter"

Harry looked around the flat. "Can you clean up while I make some sandwiches?"

Dobby nodded.

Even though the winter air was cold, Harry started opening all the windows. Ron looked worse every time he saw him. The drinking was clearly completely out of control and despite repeated questioning, Ron refused to tell anyone why Hermione had left. Harry and Ginny had talked with all of the brothers and they were seeing the same thing. Fred and George said Ron went to work, looking rough, but he was there. Other than that, he seemed to spend all his time at the pub where there was always someone willing to buy him a drink and usually there was a woman willing to go home with him. Harry shook his head at some of the company Ron had been keeping. He and Ginny had gone out to dinner with Ron and various women a few times, trying to be supportive, but it was generally awful. _The Daily Prophet_ had managed to snap a photo of a moment that looked a lot like happiness, but Harry knew looks could be deceiving. The evening that photo was snapped had been the definition of awkward. With the windows open, he went into the kitchen and made sandwiches with food he'd brought from home. He'd known Ron likely didn't have much on hand besides beer. A quick peek in the icebox confirmed that. "The kitchen needs a thorough cleaning too, Dobby," he called to the elf.

"I'll get it all, Harry Potter," Dobby replied.

By the time Ron got out of the shower, the entire flat was immaculate. The windows were closed again and Harry was piling grilled ham and cheese sandwiches onto a plate. He took them over to the table.

"I don't want to eat at the table," Ron said.

"Why not?" 

Ron shrugged but glared at the table as if it had offended him somehow. "I think I'm going to get rid of it. I don't need a table and four chairs anyway and it takes up too much space in here."

Harry looked around the room. He didn't think that was the case at all, but didn't bother saying so. "Sure." He took the plate of sandwiches and sat on the sofa.

Ron grabbed a couple of bottles of beer out of the icebox and handed one to Harry. He stopped and looked around. "Did you clean up in here?"

Harry snorted. "Dobby did."

"Thank him for me," Ron said. "I know I'd let it go a bit." He sat down on the sofa and reached for a sandwich.

"A bit," Harry said wryly.

Ron lapsed back into a sullen silence while he ate. After he finished his first sandwich, he said, "I guess they just picked up right where they left off."

"What?" Harry said.

"Viktor and Hermione. You know she never stopped writing him."

They'd had this conversation before. Harry wished for the millionth time that Hermione had chosen anyone else on the planet to date, but what he really wished was that she would just come home and fix this. As he watched Ron talk about what a prat Viktor was, while eating and drinking his beer, he couldn't really blame her for leaving. Ron was a pale shadow of his former self. Harry and Ginny had been waiting for him to pull himself together, but it just wasn't happening. "She didn't write to him during the war." 

"Only because she couldn't without giving away our location. She probably wanted to be with him all along, but he wasn't there so she got with me instead."

Harry frowned at him. "You know that's not true."

"Do I?" Ron said. "Look how quickly they picked back up. Maybe she was seeing him before she left me."

That was a new ridiculous theory. Harry was uncomfortable with how quickly Hermione had taken up with Viktor too, but he was hardly going to share that with Ron. He and Ginny had talked about it extensively. At first, they were really angry with her for abandoning him, but as the weeks wore on, it was more and more apparent that there was a lot more to the story. Harry knew he should go talk to Hermione, but dealing with Ron had been constant, and when had a break from it, the last thing he wanted to do was talk about it. Besides, his feelings were hurt that she hadn't come to him. He sighed, the truth was none of them were okay and hadn't been since the end of the war. "Come on, Ron." 

"What? You think little miss perfect is above cheating?"

Harry clenched his jaw and forced himself not to punch Ron in the face. "Yeah, I do, but you aren't, are you?"

"What?" Ron said, his eyes widening.

"I saw that witch blowing you in the toilets at the Cauldron," Harry hissed.

"What? That was…that was…it was just a knob job Harry. That's not cheating." He looked away and drank down the rest of his beer and got up to get another one.

"Oh, so it would be okay with you if I let anyone, who wanted to blow me, go ahead and do it, because it wouldn't be cheating on Ginny."

Ron looked back at him fiercely.

"Right," Harry said.

"It was just that once," Ron said quietly. "I was really drunk." He went to the window and stood staring out at the street below.

"When aren't you really drunk?" 

Ron ignored the question. "Did you tell her?"

"Who?"

"Hermione…well, or Ginny, either one," Ron said, the tips of his ears going red. "I mean, maybe that's-"

"No," Harry said.

There was a knock on the door and Harry got up to let Ginny in. "Hey," she said, giving him a quick kiss. "You two ready to go?"

"Yeah," Harry said without much enthusiasm.

"Look," Ron said. "I don't—"

"You're going," Harry gave him a hard look.

Ron ran his fingers back through his hair and looked defeated. "Yeah, okay."

xXx

The party was in full swing when they arrived. Ron immediately headed for the bar.

Harry sighed. He turned to Ginny. "Want to dance?"

"In a bit. I told Luna I'd find her. Let's do that first." They walked through the large castle and finally found Luna on the upstairs balcony watching people dancing on the floor below. She and Ginny hugged.

"I'll go get drinks," Harry said. "You want one Luna?"

"Sure," Luna said. "Just a beer." She turned back to the railing as Harry left. "It's nice to see Hermione out. I haven't seen her at a party in ages."

Ginny leaned next to her. "Yeah," she said, but Hermione's presence made her uneasy. She could see that Ron had come upstairs and was on the other side of the balcony. He was drinking a beer as he approached the railing, but then he stopped and stared at the dance floor below them. She followed his gaze to Hermione and Viktor dancing. "Shit," she hissed. "I'll be right back." She hurried over to Ron.

"Do you see that?" Ron said pointing with his beer bottle as she approached.

"Yeah," Ginny said sympathetically.

"It's disgusting," Ron growled. "He's got his hands all over her."

Ginny didn't think so. "They're only dancing."

"And what is this Muggle song? Singing about rubbing her the right way, disgusting."

"I don't know. Dean's got a lot of Muggle music. It's catchy." She looked at Hermione and Viktor dancing. It was sexy, but not disgusting, they weren't being inappropriate. She sighed. "You've got to let this go. She's not your girl anymore."

Ron turned to her with such ferocity she stepped back. "Wrong!" He growled. "She'll always be mine."

Ginny stepped forward and pushed him. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with her?" he shouted, pointing to Hermione, who continued dancing, oblivious to what was going on above her. Viktor twirled her and she wiggled back against him as she came out of the turn, he slid his hands down to her waist and kissed her neck as they moved together.

"I'm going to kill him," Ron growled and pulled his wand. He stormed downstairs.

Ginny could see Harry crossing the room below. "Harry!" she shouted. He looked up and she pointed to Ron who was tearing down the stairs. Harry dropped the three bottles of beer he was carrying and pulled out his wand. Hermione had turned around in Viktor's arms just in time to see Ron barreling toward them. Like with most large parties, the wards had been opened so the Floo wouldn't back up. People couldn't Apparate into the house, but they could Disapparate out. Hermione wrapped her arms around Viktor and Disapparated just as Harry reached Ron.

"Bloody hell!" Ron shouted.

"Put your wand away!" Harry shouted back.

People had stopped dancing around them.

"Don't tell me what to do!" Ron grabbed Harry by the shirt. "You're not in charge anymore."

"Ron!" Ginny shouted as she came up behind them.

Harry grabbed Ron's wrist. "I'm taking him home," he told Ginny and they Disapparated. Ginny pulled her own wand and popped out to Ron's flat.

Just as she arrived, Ron picked up one of the kitchen chairs and smashed it against the table. He turned on Harry and made to throw what was left of the chair at him. As Harry cast Protego, Ginny cast Stupify from behind him and Ron crumpled to the ground. "I've had enough of this," she said. "I'm getting Dad."

Harry nodded. That was probably long overdue.


	6. Pregnant

Hermione Apparated Viktor and herself directly to the bedroom they'd been sharing at her house. He looked at her in surprise. "That was unexpected," he said with a slow smile as he realized where they were. "Did you miss me?"

"You've no idea," she said.

"I've missed you too," he said, sliding his hands under her shirt and pressing her back toward the bed as he kissed her. She trembled in his arms and let him think it was from excitement.

She didn't sleep much that night. Not only was Viktor particularly amorous, but even after he'd eventually fallen asleep, she lay awake for a long time staring at the ceiling. For the first time since she'd found out she was pregnant, she was completely relieved that the baby wasn't Ron's. He'd been totally out of control tonight, and she could tell by the way he was moving that he was drunk. The thought left her hollow. It wasn't supposed to be like this. They'd survived so much only to be left with so little. Viktor stirred next to her and rolled over. He was a good man. She wondered how he would handle the news of the pregnancy. Her stomach clenched at the thought of telling him. She'd do it tomorrow. She couldn't keep putting it off.

xXx

The next day they had just returned from the market and were unpacking the bags when Viktor handed Hermione a bottle of dish soap and she said. "I'm pregnant." She hadn't meant to blurt it out like that but the words were out before she could stop them.

He looked at her and she looked back at him, her face crumpling. "It is not mine?" he asked quietly.

She shook her head and couldn't look at him anymore.

"Ron's?" he asked in a hollow voice.

She shook her head again.

He stumbled backward into one of the kitchen chairs. "Todor?" he gasped.

She nodded and sat opposite him, tears streaming down her face. "What am I going to do?"

She was trembling. He reached across the table and took her hand. "What do you want to do?"

She placed a hand over her belly. "This isn't anything I would have planned, but…I can't just…" She looked up at him with glassy eyes. "I don't have any other family."

He nodded grimly. "How long have you…?"

"I knew last week, but you were away and I didn't want to do this by Owlpost."

He took a deep breath. "We will have to talk to Todor. Make arrangements to see him. The team has a hiatus in a couple of months. We can go then to Bulgaria."

Hermione nodded. "You're not leaving?" she looked away from him.

He gripped her hand tighter. "No. You will not be alone."

She leaned down and pressed her cheek against his hand. "Thank you," she whispered. He rested his other hand on top of her head and they sat like that in silence for a long time. Finally, Viktor sat back in his chair. He shook his head. "We have to tell Todor, but he is in no condition to be a father. We should raise the baby as ours. No one but the three of us have to know."

Hermione glanced at him and sat up. "You would do that?"

"How else can this work?"

"Well," Hermione said, a lump forming in her throat, "I could…I mean you don't…it's not your baby."

He gave her a sad smile. "I took you to Amsterdam. This is as much my responsibility as it is yours or Todor's. Besides, if you have this baby, people will assume it is mine. What am I going to do, let people think I abandoned my child and his mother?"

"You could say she isn't yours." She found his unwavering willingness to take responsibility for what happened in Amsterdam both endearing and wrong-headed.

"She?"

Hermione nodded. "It's a girl. Simple spell."

He smiled, but then it faded. "I cannot say she's not mine without making you look—"

"Like a slag," she finished for him.

He shook his head. "You are not that person."

A tear slipped down her cheek. "The good readers of _Witch Weekly_ would probably disagree."

He took her hand. "Hermione."

She shook her head and wiped her face with the back of her other hand. "Don't."

"We will talk to Todor, but she will be ours. Yours and mine. No one will question that," he said firmly. "We will work out the rest as we go. Do not worry. It will be fine."

She nodded, but she knew he was wrong this time. Nothing was fine.

xXx

Over the next couple of months, Hermione immersed herself in work and in the evenings began to learn Bulgarian since they would be going there soon enough. She didn't like Viktor always having to translate everything for her. It pleased him that she was learning his language and he helped her in the evenings after practice. After a while, they started exclusively speaking Bulgarian at home. On the weekends, she attended his games and they continued on as if nothing was different, but her body began to change. Eventually, she reached a point where she was only wearing traditional wizarding robes, because she'd started to show, and the old-style robes could hide a lot of sins. Since most of the other Unspeakables all wore traditional robes at work, no one questioned her choice to wear them as well. As the trip to Bulgaria grew nearer, she became increasingly anxious. She felt the loss of her mother acutely and often dreamed of talking to her. On her way home from work one day, she stopped in the Second-Hand Book shop and bought _The Expectant Witch_. She was reading it when Viktor arrived home from practice.

"What are you reading," he asked as he came into the parlor.

She held up the book.

He smiled at her. "You are studying how to be pregnant? That is so like you."

His comment cut her though. "I don't have anyone to ask," she said tightly, blinking back tears.

"Hey," Viktor said, sitting next to her. "I was only teasing. I did not mean to hurt you."

She shook her head. "It's fine."

"It is not," he said, taking her hand. "I am sorry. Did something happen?"

She closed the book. "It's nothing."

He leaned into her. "Tell me."

"I just. I kept feeling…it's the weirdest sensation. It's like something swimming around in there."

Viktor smiled. "You can feel her moving?"

"Sometimes. I wasn't sure if maybe it was just my stomach rumbling, but it's not like that. Anyway, the book describes it and says it's the baby."

He put his hand on her belly. "Can I feel?"

She smiled at him. "Not yet, that'll take a few more weeks."

"It is exciting, no?"

She nodded. "It is, but also kind of scary. What if Todor doesn't agree to our plan?"

Viktor tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "He will. Do not worry."

"I can't help it. We're leaving tomorrow, and we haven't really talked about what happens after we talk to Todor."

Viktor sighed. "Stop worrying. One thing at a time Hermione. We will talk to Todor as soon as we get there. He is expecting us. He says he has been clean for two weeks. I just hope this does not make him go back."

"You think it will?" She didn't want to be the reason for Todor to backslide again.

"I do not know. It seems any excuse will do, but he and Pietra are talking again, so perhaps this time he will stay clean."

She laced her fingers with his. "I hope so."

He nodded. "Me too."

xXx

Hermione was expecting to lose her breakfast after the Portkey to Sophia, but she managed to avoid vomiting which she considered a personal triumph.

"You are okay?" Viktor said, reaching for her.

She blew out a relieved breath. "Yes. I'm fine."

Viktor took her hand and they stepped out of the narrow alley where they'd landed. "Todor lives in his studio." They walked two blocks down a sidewalk that ran alongside a busy street. Viktor turned down an alley and led her up a narrow, wrought iron staircase. He knocked on a purple door at the top of the stairs.

Todor opened the door. "Viktor! Come in, come in!"

Viktor stepped back and held his arm out to usher Hermione into the room.

"Hermione," Todor said, extending his hand.

She shook it, although given why she was there, the formality of the greeting struck her as somewhat absurd. She also couldn't help but notice that Viktor and Todor hadn't greeted each other with anything near the same level of enthusiasm they'd shown in Amsterdam. She knew they'd been writing to each other, but Viktor had never shared the contents of any of the letters, and she hadn't wanted to pry.

"Have a seat," Todor said, indicating a threadbare blue velvet sofa. "Can I get you a coffee or perhaps tea for your little English queen?" he asked in Bulgarian.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "Just water for me, thanks," she answered in Bulgarian.

Todor raised his eyebrows at Viktor, who shrugged. "She is a quick study," he said, clearly amused by Todor's surprise.

Viktor and Hermione sat on the sofa while Todor fussed with a moka pot in the little kitchenette at the back of the studio. Hermione looked around. The space was cluttered with the tools of his trade, cameras, tubes of paint, brushes, and rolls of canvas. It was an organized mess. On the other side of the room was an unmade double bed with piles of old quilts on top of it. There was a door between the bed and the kitchenette that she assumed led to the bathroom. She blew out a nervous breath. Viktor gave her a sympathetic look and reached for her hand. She wove her fingers with his, grateful for the gesture. A few minutes later, Todor came over with two small cups and a glass on a battered tray. He set it on the coffee table before taking one of the cups and sitting in a worn red wing chair across from them.

"So," Todor said. "Are we talking photos or a portrait?"

"What?" Hermione said, glancing between the two men.

"Is that not why you are here?" Todor said, his brow wrinkling in confusion. "I assumed you would want something to commemorate your new team," he said to Viktor. "Or perhaps a photo of the two of you. No?"

Viktor cleared his throat. "No. Although both of those things would be nice, but that is not why we are here. I am sorry. I should have realized you would assume that."

Todor set down his cup. "Then why are you here?"

Viktor scrubbed a hand down his face.

Hermione sighed. "I'm pregnant."

Todor's face split into a grin. "Congratulations!" Neither of them smiled back at him. "Hey, it is a new millennium. So, you are not married, a child is always cause for celebration, yes?"

Viktor scratched at the stubble on his cheek. "Yes, but it is not mine."

"Oh," Todor said, now thoroughly confused. "I do not understand."

Hermione glared at Viktor and wondered why was he cocking this up so badly? "I got pregnant in Amsterdam."

Todor's eyes widened. "Oh."

"You're the father," she said. "I can show you the spell if you'd like to see for yourself."

Todor put a hand over his eyes and then dragged it down to cover his mouth as he looked from one of them to the other. Finally, he slowly lowered his hand. "It has been months since Amsterdam, why are you only telling me now?"

"We wanted to tell you in person," Viktor said. "I had to wait for a break in my schedule."

"I…um…I…" Todor was at a loss for words. He shook his head. He looked at Hermione. "You want to have this baby? My baby? Why? You hardly know me."

"Todor," Viktor said, anger creeping into his voice.

Hermione put a soothing hand on Viktor's forearm. "It's a fair question. Look, Todor, I certainly would never have planned this, but given that it happened, I thought long and hard about that. And the truth is I seriously considered terminating this pregnancy, but ultimately, I don't want to. She's part of me. I don't have any other family. I don't want to waste the opportunity to build a new one."

"She?" Todor said, one corner of his mouth lifting into a smile.

"Yes," Hermione said, smiling back.

Todor's face fell. "I'm in no position to help you." He held up his hands. "You're looking at all my worldly possessions. I have a little money in the bank. I could—"

Hermione shook her head. "That won't be necessary. I didn't come here looking for money."

Todor looked at Viktor.

"We would like to raise her as our own, but we did not want to lie to you about her true parentage," Viktor said solemnly.

"But you would like to lie to the rest of the world?" Todor said.

"Yes," Hermione said.

"If you agree," Viktor continued, "I will have my attorney here in Sophia draw up the papers so that you will terminate your parental rights, leaving Hermione sole custody."

"What about you?" Todor asked him.

"What about me?" Viktor said, scowling.

"What are you going to do? Are you two getting married? Will you adopt the baby?"

"If you agree, then there will be no need for me to adopt her because everyone will assume she is mine, and the birth certificate in England will reflect that. I was going to ask Hermione to go to the courthouse with me to get a marriage certificate, and then we can pick out rings this afternoon. We can get married before we leave Sofia."

Hermione's mouth dropped open. This was the first she'd heard about any of that.

Viktor looked at her. "If that is okay with you."

She nodded, not sure if it was okay exactly, but sure that it was the smart thing to do. The situation would be so much less scandalous if they returned to England already married. Of course, there would still be gossip about when the baby was conceived, but it would be so much less if they were married. "May I use your loo?" she asked.

"Of course," Todor said, pointing to the door on the other side of the room.

Hermione used the toilet for what felt like the millionth time that day thanks to the baby's insistence on leaning on her bladder. She could hear the men talking in low voices on the other side of the door, but she'd couldn't make out what they were saying. _My kingdom for an extendable ear,_ she thought. As she washed her hands she stared at herself in the tiny mirror over the sink. She'd straightened her hair the way Viktor liked it and she wore it loose and down. It was odd to see herself without her curls, like looking at a different person. In a way she felt like a different person. This wasn't her. Hermione Granger didn't get pregnant at a drug fueled orgy. Hermione Granger didn't have a stranger's baby. Hermione Granger didn't marry a man she wasn't in love with. She closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she clenched her jaw and faced her image again. Hermione Granger took responsibility for her mistakes. Hermione Granger would have a family again even if she had to make it herself. Viktor was a good man, a man worth loving. Maybe she wasn't in love with him, but she could love him, already loved him after a fashion. He was a good friend, these days, her only friend. They could do this. They respected each other. They had a lot in common. There were worse things to build a marriage on. So what if this wasn't the life she'd pictured for herself? If the war taught her nothing else, it had taught her that life was messy, that the best laid plans could fall apart. Fine. New plan. She'd helped defeat Voldemort. She could get married and raise a child and she could do it with Viktor, and if need be, without him. She had a home and a job. So what, if things had derailed for a bit? Hermione Granger could get them back on track. She dried her hands and stepped out of the lavatory.

Todor was pacing and smoking a cigarette, which he stubbed out when he saw her. She resumed her seat next to Viktor. Todor paced back and forth a couple more times before stopping and looking at them. "All right," he said. "I will do this, but I have three conditions."

Viktor frowned. "What?"

"First, Pietra must never know about Amsterdam, so she cannot ever know that your baby is mine."

"Fine," Viktor said. Hermione nodded.

"Second," Todor continued, "I want a photo."

Viktor scowled at him. "What kind of photo?"

"Of Hermione, where you can see she is pregnant."

"What?" Viktor said. "No."

"I'm not asking for a nude, just to be able to see her belly."

"No," Viktor said, getting to his feet. "Absolutely not."

"Viktor," Hermione said, grabbing his hand. "Wait."

"No!" Viktor said, turning to her.

She sighed.

"Why would you want that?" He turned back to Todor. "Why?"

Todor frowned sadly. "Because that is all I will get of the pregnancy. Nothing else. I will not feel the baby kick or see her born. I am willing to give up all rights to her, but I would like this. Just for me. No one else will ever see it."

"Viktor," Hermione said again.

"No," Viktor said, but much less vociferously this time.

"It's fine," Hermione said. "He's giving up a lot. This is a small thing. I don't mind."

Viktor looked from one to the other, clearly irritated with both of them. He sat back down. "Fine. What is the third thing?"

"I want you back in my life," Todor said. "I have not seen you in months. Not since Amsterdam. I am sorry I invited you there. I am sorry about what happened. All of it. I swear to you, I have been clean for almost three weeks and before that I was on Methadone from a Muggle clinic. I do not want anything like what happened there to happen again, but I miss you. You have always been my best friend Viktor. I want that back. I would like Hermione to meet Pietra. I would like us to go to that cabin on the Black Sea again or to the Mediterranean. Wherever you want. Bring Hermione and the baby. It will be safe, I promise. Just please, do not stay away from me anymore."

Viktor blew out a frustrated breath and looked at Hermione. She leaned into him and whispered in his ear, "I know you miss him. As long as he stays clean, what would it hurt?"

Viktor kissed her cheek. "You can be very kind, you know that?"

She pressed her lips to his ear. "Turn this into something good."

"Fine. We agree to your terms. I will contact my solicitor and we will bring the papers for you to sign as soon as he has them ready. You can take the photo then too."

"No." Todor said. "I want to take it today. The light is good right now. We might not have good light when the papers are ready."

Viktor looked at Hermione.

"It's fine," she said. "What do you want me to do?"

"What do you have in your luggage that will show your belly?" Todor asked.

"Nothing. The goal has been to hide it, not show it."

"Ah," Todor said. "Hmm."

"Wait a minute, I have an idea," Hermione said. "Viktor can I borrow one of your shirts."

"Sure," he said, taking their shrunken luggage out of his pocket and casting the spell to bring it back to normal size. He opened his bag and she pulled a white dress shirt out of it. "I'll only be a minute," she said, taking it into the lavatory.

"Hermione," Todor said, before she closed the door. "Can you make your hair the other way?"

"You mean curly?"

"Yes," Todor said.

She looked at Viktor who shrugged.

"All right," she said and closed the door.

"You get one shot," Viktor said to Todor. "Just one."

"I am very good. I only need one," Todor said.

When Hermione stepped out of the bathroom, both men smiled. Her hair fell in soft ringlets over her shoulders and down her back. She'd taken off the traditional robes she'd been wearing, so she was only in her underwear and Viktor's shirt. She'd turned up the sleeves and only the buttons across her breasts were buttoned, leaving the rest of the shirt open to show off her rounded belly. "Will this work?"

Todor smiled. "Yes. Perfect. Come over here." He had her stand on seamless paper that hung off a roll fastened to the wall. Hermione waited in her bare feet while Todor got his camera ready. Finally, he said, "Look up."

She lifted her head and gave him a shy smile. He snapped the photo. "Perfect."

"You are done?" Viktor said.

"Yes," Todor said.

"Great," Hermione said. "I'll just get dressed then."

In a quiet voice, Viktor said to Todor. "I would like a copy of that."

"I thought you might," Todor said. "You know, with her hair like that, she looks a lot like-"

"Stop," Viktor said.

Todor nodded. "Sorry."

xXx

When Hermione emerged from the lavatory again, her hair was up in a messy bun and she was back in traditional wizarding robes and boots.

"We should go," Viktor said, "if we're going to apply for the marriage license today." Hermione put his shirt back in his luggage and cast the spell to shrink the bag before handing it to Viktor. He put it in his jacket pocket. "I will send an owl when the papers are ready," he told Todor. Viktor and Hermione both hugged Todor before they left.

The walk to the Bulgarian equivalent of Diagon Alley was just three short blocks. They walked through the front door of an abandoned garage and to the back of the building. Viktor tapped the wall with his wand and the concrete blocks folded back to form a door. They stepped through and walked down an alley past a car park.

"Our Ministry of Magic building is at the end of the street. It shouldn't take long to apply for the license. Then there is a jewelry—" He didn't finish the sentence as a flash of light dropped him to the ground. Instinctively, Hermione ducked down and hurried for the cover of a large concrete planter at the entrance to the carpark. She pulled her wand as she ran. There was another flash of light and this time she returned fire and dropped one of their attackers. She duck-walked to the other end of the planter and peered around the edge. A flash of blue light blasted a chunk of concrete out of the wall above her head. She sent another spell at the source of the blue light and heard someone scream. She was turning to go back toward Viktor when a flash of red light hit her from the back and she crumbled to the ground. The last thing she heard was someone's whoop of joy. They had her.


	7. Empty

Hermione was cold. It was dark and she didn't know where she was.

"This woman is pregnant. No one said she was pregnant. Are you sure this is her? Wait, she's stirring. She's stirring!"

"Stun her! Stun her!"

* * *

She was laying on her side on a hard surface. It was even colder than before. Her hands were bound behind her back and her feet were bound together. She naked, she was having trouble opening her eyes, and her leg felt like it was on fire. She couldn't stop shivering. Her head felt like someone was pounding on it with a hammer. With great effort she managed to open one eye. Perversely, someone had dumped her in front of a huge mirror. She was naked. Her eyes were swollen, one of her legs was covered in boils, and her arms were orange for some reason.

"Hey, hey," someone shouted. "She's awake!"

"Stupify," someone else said.

* * *

She wasn't as cold now, but she couldn't feel her hands and feet at all. When she managed to open one of her eyes she could see that she was now covered in blue feathers. She couldn't feel the baby move at all, and desperately hoped that didn't mean anything. She tried to look around the room without moving her head, but her eyes were so swollen, she didn't have much peripheral vision. She couldn't tell if Viktor was there too.

"Hey," someone said.

"Stupify," came the second voice again.

* * *

She was numb all over. She couldn't feel anything. When she managed to open her one good eye, she wished she hadn't. Tentacles were everywhere interspersed with feathers, scales, boils, colors. She let out an involuntary moan and instantly regretted it.

"Stupify!"

* * *

The next time she woke, everything was white and blurry. People were shouting all around her but she couldn't see them clearly. They were just moving blurs. At first, she didn't understand them, but then she realized they were speaking Bulgarian.

"Can you hear me ma'am?" someone asked, but when she opened her mouth to answer she burped up a slug.

"Slugs," someone else said.

"Okay, okay, don't try to talk," the first voice said. "Let's see if we can get these slugs stopped so she can answer us."

Someone else cast a spell.

"Okay, let's try again, ma'am can you tell me your name?"

"Granger," she croaked. "Hermione Granger."

The room got quiet around her. "As in Harry Potter's friend?" another voice said.

"Yes. Where's Viktor?"

"Viktor Krum is here in the hospital. He's unconscious, but he should recover."

"Good," Hermione said. "Is the baby okay?"

"Can you tell us what all they hit you with Ms. Granger?"

"I don't know. They kept stunning me. I don't know. Everything hurts. How is the baby? Is she alright?"

"We're doing what we can Ms. Granger. I'm going to give you something for the pain and you're going to go to sleep for a little while so we can put you right. We'll talk again afterward."

"Okay," she said and closed her eyes.

xXx

When Hermione woke again, her vision had cleared and the pain was no longer sharp and acute, but more of a deep ache throughout her whole body. She sat up in bed and immediately felt the difference. Her hand went to her belly, which was now far flatter than it had been. An icy wave washed through her. Twenty-two weeks was too soon. She started to cry.

A healer pulled back the curtain and came in, closing it behind him. "Ms. Granger?"

She looked up.

The healer pulled a chair over and sat down next to the bed. "I'm very sorry for your loss. We did everything we could, but despite our best magic, there was too much damage. We couldn't save the baby."

Hermione nodded unable to process what the healer was saying. "How about Viktor?"

"Mr. Krum is alive, still unconscious, but we expect him to make a full recovery, as will you."

"Okay," Hermione said, looking out the window. The sun was shining. That seemed wrong.

"Is there someone we can contact to come get you? Harry Potter, perhaps?" The hopeful look in the healer's eyes turned Hermione's stomach. Even after everything that had happened, the only thing the man could think about was that he might get to meet the Chosen One.

"No," Hermione said firmly. "It's not safe for him here. They took me right off the street in broad daylight."

"Oh," the healer said. "Of course. Is there anyone else?"

"No. Well, someone should tell Todor."

"Todor?" the healer said.

Hermione gave him Todor's name and address. "If you have my wand, I can contact him myself."

The healer sighed. "We do have your wand, it was found at the scene. It's in that cabinet there, but you'll need to take it easy on the magic for a few weeks."

"Okay," Hermione said. "Are my clothes in the cabinet as well." She looked at the white metal cabinet next to the bed. The paint was chipping along the bottom.

The healer grimaced. "No. I'm sorry. You didn't come in with clothes. You can keep the gown."

Hermione nodded and looked down at the white cotton hospital gown she was wearing. She hadn't noticed it before. There was a rusty stain on one of the ties. "Okay."

"You'll need to take a lot of different potions," the healer continued. "Some of them you'll only be taking for a few days, but the one for Tentaculous you'll need to take for several weeks until the symptoms subside."

"Tentaculous?"

"Yes, it's a particularly nasty hex. You'll have outbreaks of tentacles for a while, usually under strain, so don't lift anything over a pound or two until you've stopped having outbreaks."

"I'm randomly going to sprout tentacles?" Hermione said with tired resignation.

"Not randomly, but something as simple as a sneeze could cause an outbreak. Usually, they'll appear in the abdominal region, not too big unless left unchecked. The best response is to cast a severing charm, apply Essence of Dittany, and then take a tablespoon of potion."

"A severing charm?"

"Yes, I'm afraid the cure is quite painful."

"Of course," Hermione said. She resumed looking out the window. A flock of birds flew by, but they were too far away for her to recognize the species. Something big though. Storks maybe.

"Also," the healer continued. "In terms of the miscarriage, I would advise waiting at least six weeks to resume sexual activity. Generally, we advise waiting until all the bleeding has stopped and you've had at least one normal period, although in your case, a normal period might not occur for a while."

Hermione looked at him.

"You've taken a lot of magical damage Ms. Granger. I noticed you have some rather large cursed scars too."

"Right," Hermione said in hollow voice. None of this seemed real.

"You're going to want to wait at least six months before trying to conceive again, although, as I said, you've taken a lot of magical damage."

Hermione drew in a shaky breath. "Are you saying I can't have another baby?"

"Can't is too strong a word. It's just not particularly likely, but magic being what it is…" He shrugged. "Who knows?"

"Right," Hermione said, and returned her attention to the window.

"All the instructions will be written down for you," the healer continued. He stood and put the chair back in the corner. "I'll go contact your friend now. You're free to go as soon as he gets here."

"Right," she said.

When the healer left, she got up and went to the cabinet. She couldn't stand up straight and moving was agonizing and exhausting but having her wand back in her hand was a comfort. She curled up at the head of the bed and waited for Todor to arrive.

xXx

As he hurried through the hospital hallways, Todor hated the sounds and smells and the antiseptic white walls. Hospitals were miserable places to be avoided if possible, but Viktor and Hermione were there and hurt, so he tried to push his surroundings out of his mind and focus on finding Hermione. He'd already seen Viktor, who was still unconscious in the Deadly Curses Department, but he was having trouble finding the Magical Accidents wing where Hermione was supposed to be. He turned a corner and suddenly he was there. 

"Hermione Granger?" Todor asked the first healer to cross his path.

The healer pointed down the hall. "Last door on the left. She's ready to go. Are you family?"

Todor shook his head. "No. Just a friend, she doesn't have anyone else to take her."

The healer walked with him down the hall. "She's fine to leave, but she's not well. They really did a number on her. Her physical wounds have mostly healed, but emotionally… To be abducted like that and then brutalized with all that magic, that's bad enough, but she also lost the baby.

Todor felt the loss like a punch in the gut.

"Make sure you pick up the box of potions in her room. You'll have to stay on top of that. She's still got a lot of healing ahead of her. The instructions are in the box. Do you think you can handle all this?"

Todor nodded, but he didn't feel like he could handle any of it. Unfortunately, there was no one else. He looked at the door to her room.

"Go ahead," the healer said gently.

Todor swallowed hard and took a deep breath before knocking on door. "Hermione," he said, before cracking the door just enough to catch a glimpse of her.

The site broke his heart. She was curled into a tight ball at the head of the bed with her wand gripped tightly in her hand. She looked at him and blinked. "Todor?" 

"Yes," he said, stepping in and closing the door behind him.

She pointed her wand at him. "Tell me something, so I know it's really you." There was an edge to her voice that left him unnerved.

"You like heroin," he said softly.

She closed her eyes and lowered her wand. "How is Viktor? Have you seen him?"

"He will be fine. Was hurt bad, but will be fine."

Hermione nodded.

"The hospital, they owl me to…ah…come and get you." The switch from Bulgarian to English was always hard for him, but he had been practicing his English. Hermione spoke Bulgarian, but he wasn't sure if she'd be able to given the state she was in.

She looked up at him, but then dropped her eyes again. "Okay."

He sat on the edge of her bed. "The healer says you can go. Do you want go?"

She looked at him. "Yes, but I shouldn't leave Viktor."

He sighed again. "Look, Viktor is…not awake. Come with me now. I wii bring back tomorrow."

She nodded and began to uncurl, but he could tell it was costing her. She grimaced with pain as she finally stood, but she remained slightly hunched over.

"Are you sure can go?"

She nodded.

He offered her his arm. She hesitated before taking it, but then leaned heavily on him as they made their way slowly to the hospital entrance.

He took the Floo first, giving her directions before he stepped into the green flames.

He was there to catch her as she stumbled out of the fireplace into his studio/flat a minute later. She coughed and he held her while she caught her breath.

"I will make bath for you," he said helping her to the small bathroom at the back of the flat. He flicked his wand at the tub, starting the hot water flowing. "Do you need help getting into tub?"

She shook her head.

"Fine, call if need." He turned to leave but then stopped. "Hermione, is anyone I should owl?"

She opened her mouth as if to say something, but then closed it and shook her head.

Todor nodded. He closed the door behind him and went out into his studio. He put on some water to boil for tea and then made some cheese sandwiches. He thought she probably wouldn't want to eat, but he wanted them available in case she did want something. He started cleaning. The tools of his profession were all over the flat so he sorted through things and put them away, expecting her to come out of the bath at any minute. Finally, he realized she'd been in there an awfully long time.

He tapped on the bathroom door. There was no answer. "Hermione?" he said, easing the door open. She was curled at the far end of the tub, trembling, her eyes were closed and her fists were clenched tight. "Hermione?" he asked again. He got no response. He stepped into the bathroom and touched the water in the tub. It had gone cold. He pulled his wand out and cast a heating charm on the bathwater and then on the towel she'd set out and his robe hanging on the back of the door. "Come, Hermione, time to get out, yes."

She shook her head. "I can't get out," she said through chattering teeth, but she didn't appear to be talking to him.

"Is all right, I help you." He reached for her, but she shrank away from him. "I will not hurt you." He reached again and she let him take her arm, but she trembled harder now. "Is all right," he cooed. He helped her out of the tub and wrapped her in one of the warm towels. As he dried her off, he tried to clear his mind and not notice the drops of water gracing her breasts or the wild mass of curls trailing down her back or the other curls at the juncture of her thighs. He wrapped her in his robe.

He took another towel and used to it to try and absorb some of the water out of her hair. "I like your hair curly," he said, desperate to say something.

"Viktor prefers it straight."

Todor frowned. "Sometimes, Viktor is idiot." That got him a half smile.

He cast a detangling charm, but it didn't seem to do much with her hair. He cast it four times before he ventured a drying charm; it took three of those. He smiled at her. "Your hair is a lot."

Hermione half snorted. "That's certainly one way to look at it." She hunched over and grabbed the vanity and let out a groan.

"I will get potion."

She grabbed his arm with a surprisingly strong grip. "Todor, do you…do have anything better, stronger?"

He looked at her, knowing full well what she was asking. "The healer said–"

"I don't care what the healer said. I want something for more than just these cramps." There was a grim determination in her eyes.

He shook his head. "No, is not what you really want."

"Yes, it is."

He shook his head again.

She grimaced again and clutched at her middle. "Don't make me beg, Todor. Please."

"I only have little bit for emergencies. I have quit."

She looked at him, her eyes pleading.

He sighed. "Fine. Go lay down. I get."

xXx

He was kneeling next to the bed and holding a lighter under the little foil packet for her while she breathed in the fumes from the tube. She handed it to him and lay back, rolling away from him. He looked at the foil packet and let the last remnants of the heroin boil away. He didn't smoke any. He started to walk away, to let her sleep, when her hand reached out and grabbed his.

"Don't go. Please."

He set his lighter and the crumpled piece of foil on the nightstand and sat next to her.

"I lost the baby," she said quietly. "Our baby."

"I know," he swallowed hard. "The healer said. I am very sorry."

A tear slipped down her cheek. "I suppose it's for the best, really."

"No," Todor said. "No, you and me would make pretty baby, I think."

She nodded, more tears falling, and then she sobbed, great wracking sobs. He held her and felt his own tears slip down his cheek and into her hair. He knew the minute the heroin started to kick in because the sobbing stopped, but she still clung to him and he continued to hold her until they fell asleep.

xXx

The sound of someone pounding on the door woke Todor. Hermione stirred next to him. He got up and shouted for whoever was at the door to wait. He slipped into the bathroom, relieved himself, and then got some hangover potion out of the cabinet. He pressed it into Hermione's hand as he passed the bed on the way to the door. He called his wand to him before he looked through the peephole. He looked back at Hermione, "MMBP," he said.

She looked at him blankly and pushed her hair back.

He struggled for the English equivalent. "Ah, Aurors."

She sat up, pulling his robe tighter around her.

Todor opened the door.

The three Auror's introduced themselves. A younger woman stepped forward. "Are you Hermione Granger?" she asked Hermione in perfect English.

Hermione nodded and got to her feet, her wand still gripped tightly in her hand.

"It's an honor to meet you," she stuck out her hand and Hermione shook it. The other two Auror's shook her hand as well.

"We would like to express our sympathy for your loss and to tell you that the Bulgarian Ministry is profoundly sorry that this happened on our watch."

Hermione nodded again, but didn't say anything.

There was an awkward moment of silence. The English speaking Auror continued, "We've arrested two of the Death Eaters that attacked you and Viktor Krum. I understand that you didn't recognize any of your attackers, but we think we might recognize them if we saw them. Are you familiar with a Pensieve?"

Hermione's eyes widened but she nodded again.

Todor could see her wand hand trembling. He moved to stand next to her. "Is okay," he said softly.

"Are you capable of the magic involved in removing a memory?" the Auror asked.

Hermione glanced at Todor before she nodded again.

Todor watched amazed as Hermione set her wand to her temple and removed the long silvery strand of memory. The Auror already had a bottle ready and Hermione slipped the writhing string into it and the Auror corked it. "Thank you," the young woman said. "We'll get this back to you as soon as possible. We talked to Mr. Krum this morning. Between his testimony and this memory, we won't have any problems with a conviction."

Hermione looked up sharply as did Todor. "Viktor's awake?" they said in unison.

"He was this morning, yes."

Hermione clutched her middle and let out a soft groan.

Todor took her arm and helped her back to bed. "I must get her potions."

"Of course," the English speaking Auror said. "We've got all we need, Miss Granger. We'll get these memories back to you as soon as possible."

Hermione nodded.

Todor made sure she took all her potions and then he drew her another bath. Once they were both cleaned up and ready, they returned to the hospital to see Viktor

xXx

Viktor's parents were talking to a healer in the hall when Hermione and Todor arrived. Viktor's mother was clearly appalled at their arrival and said so to Todor in Bulgarian along with a lot of ugly comments about Hermione's blood status. But this time, Hermione spoke Bulgarian and she was in no mood to be talked about as though she didn't matter. She let Viktor's mother know in no uncertain terms that she wasn't going anywhere. The air crackled around her and Todor quietly said, "Hermione, calm down."

She realized her rage was starting to manifest in her magic and she took a deep breath, but the desired result was reached anyway as Viktor's mother told her she was horrid but scurried off anyway. There were some advantages to her war exploits being widely known.

Looking at the door to Viktor's hospital room, she tucked a curl behind her ear. "I'm a mess," she said to Todor in Bulgarian.

"You look fine." He was relieved not to have to keep speaking in English.

She looked down at his baggy paint streaked jeans and worn purple velvet button down that she was wearing. "I don't even have my own clothes."

"You look fine," he repeated. "What did you want to do?" He smiled. "Stop and shop on the way here?"

"No, of course not," Hermione said, her voice cracking. "I just want my own clothes." She pushed a stray tear off her cheek.

Todor rested a hand on her shoulder. "I know. We will get you some clothes. Do not worry. It will be okay."

She nodded and pulled her wand to cast a charm to disguise that she'd been crying.

Todor gave her a sympathetic look. "You do not have to do that."

"Yes, I do," she said quietly. "Not for Viktor. For me."

He sighed. "Let's go in."

xXx

Viktor was laying in bed. He opened his eyes when he heard the door open. He didn't sit up.

"Viktor?" Hermione said cautiously.

"Yes," he said in a soft whisper. He looked in their direction out of corner of his eye. He didn't move his head.

A healer was standing next to him putting the cork back on a potion bottle. "You are family?" she asked.

"Yes," Todor answered. "I am his cousin, Todor Golakov and this is his fiancé, Hermione Granger."

The healer's eyebrows shot up. "The English witch? Harry Potter's friend?"

"Yes," Hermione answered tiredly. She didn't need that today. "Can you tell us what happened to Viktor?"

"He was hit with a muscle collapsing curse," the healer said. "Fortunately, he was found quickly or he would have suffocated."

Hermione stepped next to the bed and slipped her fingers into Viktor's hand. He twitched his fingers but couldn't close them around hers. "How long will it take him to recover?"

"Well, he's an athlete and that works in his favor, two or three more days of treatment should set him right."

Hermione nodded. "Thank you."

"How are you feeling, Miss Granger?" the healer asked.

"I'm fine."

Viktor cut his eyes at her and then at Todor, who shook his head slightly. Viktor ran his eyes up and down Hermione while she talked to the healer and his expression grew more and more alarmed. Finally, the healer left.

"What happened to you?" he asked.

Hermione pushed the damp fringe off his forehead. "Don't worry about that right now. Let's just focus on getting you well."

He looked at her flat stomach. "The baby?"

Hermione shook her head but couldn't hold back the tears. She sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over and sobbed next to him.

Viktor looked at Todor who was now also crying. "Help me," he gasped.

Todor went over to the bed and lifted Viktor's arm to rest over Hermione as she cried.

"Thank you," Viktor said, tears forming in his own eyes.

After a few minutes, she sat up and Viktor's arm slid off her. She set it back on the bed next to him. "All right," she said. "Enough of that. I need a cup of tea. Can you eat or drink yet?"

"They only give me ice chips," Viktor said. "But the healer said I can try drinking after my dose tonight."

Hermione nodded. "Okay. Todor do you want a cup of tea?"

"Coffee would be good," Todor said.

"Okay. I'll be back," she said and left the room.

xXx

As soon as she closed the door behind her, Viktor looked at Todor. "Why is she wearing your clothes?"

Todor sighed sadly. "When I came to pick her up at the hospital, all she had was the gown. The healers said she was brought in naked but…"

"But what?" Viktor asked.

"She was covered in boils, feathers, tentacles, and color for some reason. Apparently, she was hit with so many jinxes and hexes and some curses that she was barely recognizable as human. It took a long time for them to get her sorted."

"They couldn't save the baby?"

Todor shook his head sadly. "No."

"She's moving very stiffly," Viktor added.

"Yes," Todor agreed. "She's very banged up. I think she cast a glamor charm before I got to the hospital, but it wore off while she slept last night. When I went to wake her this morning…" He shook his head. "Her arms and face were covered in cuts and burns from all the magic. They're healing, of course, but there are so many. Episkey and Dittany can't work but so fast with so much to heal."

"Fuck," Viktor muttered.

"She has been through a lot. The Aurors came and took her memories to try and identify who attacked you."

"Good. I hope they get the bastards." He looked at Todor. "Are my clothes in that cabinet?"

Todor opened it to check. "Yes."

"Look in the right front pocket of my jacket. Our luggage should be in there."

Todor fished around in the pocket and pulled out the two little bags.

"The red one is hers," Viktor said.

"She will be so relieved to have her own clothes," Todor said.

xXx

The next three days were spent almost exclusively at the hospital. At night, Todor and Hermione would return to his flat. He would make a simple dinner and they would play chess or cards. They shared his bed each night, and he held her until she fell asleep. He tried not to notice when she called for a man in her sleep, a man that was neither him nor Viktor.

On the fourth day, Viktor was released from the hospital. It was a miserable day that had started with a thick fog, which turned into a heavy downpour. The hospital had arranged for a Portkey to take them back to England. Todor watched from the hospital window as Viktor and Hermione stepped out into the rain.

She said something to him and he shook his head. He pulled her to him and hugged her.

Todor thought they looked very beautiful together in the rain. When they broke the hug, Viktor held on to her arm and picked up an empty can from a bench in the courtyard. A moment later, they disappeared. Todor wished them the best of luck, but he couldn't help wondering about the man Hermione called for in her sleep, and whether or not she did that when she was with Viktor, and what it meant if she did or if she didn't.

xXx

Viktor and Hermione landed in the backyard of her parents' townhouse. Viktor enlarged their luggage and took the box of potions from the hospital and put it in the downstairs powder room. He took her luggage upstairs while Hermione went through her mail. She was still going through it when Viktor came back downstairs.

"I am going to get some fresh clothes at my place. I will be back in a little while."

"You don't have too," Hermione said without looking at him.

"What?"

She shook her head. "I know you felt responsible for the baby and my situation, but that's over now. You don't have to stay. I'll be fine."

He stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her. "I will be back in a little while." He kissed her neck and then stepped back and Disapparated.

She knew she should feel grateful or happy or something that he wanted to stay with her, but she didn't feel anything. Nothing. She continued sorting the mail. She came across a fancy envelope and opened it. Ginny was inviting her to her hen party. Hermione was supposed to be Ginny's maid of honor. That had been decided before she'd left Ron, but now the hen party had been planned and Hermione hadn't been involved at all. She wondered briefly if that meant she was no longer maid of honor. It didn't matter. She found a piece of parchment and jotted down a quick note:

_Dear Ginny,_

_I'm sorry, but I've been quite ill, so I won't be able to attend your hen party. I understand that circumstances have changed. Please let me know if you no longer want me as your maid of honor or if you'd rather I not attend the wedding. I'll abide by whatever you decide._

_Best wishes,_

_Hermione_

She sealed the letter and set it aside to give to the next owl that came by. She was exhausted. She went into the parlor and lay down on the sofa. It wasn't long before she was sound asleep.

xXx

Hermione awoke sometime later to the sound of bacon frying. There was a fire going in the fireplace. She stared at it without sitting up. A few minutes later, Viktor came in carrying a plate in one hand and two glasses of pumpkin juice in the other. He held out the hand with the juice and she sat up and took one.

"I'm glad you're up," he said. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," she said.

He raised his eyebrows at her.

"Still sore," she said.

He held out the plate. It had four bacon sandwiches on it.

"I'm not hungry."

"It doesn't matter. Eat one. You have to keep up your strength."

"Right," she said and took a sandwich. She couldn't imagine what she needed to be strong for. He was watching so she took a bite. It felt like wet cardboard in her mouth. It was all she could do to swallow it. The pumpkin juice helped.

Viktor looked at her, his forehead wrinkled in concern. "I know you are sad," he said. "But it will get better."

"Right," she said.

xXx

By the end of the week, she'd finished all the potions but the one for Tentaculous. She was still having occasional outbreaks, especially if she coughed or sneezed. She felt well enough to go back to work, so on Monday morning, she went to the Ministry. Work provided the focus she needed to move forward. Staying at home had left her to stew in her own misery, but at work, she could shift her thoughts to something more compelling than the mess that was the rest of her life.

Viktor continued to stay with her, but he was back at practice every day, and without being able to have sex for at least another five weeks, she felt strangely disconnected from him. It was still better to have him there than to not have him, but she didn't find his presence as comforting as she used to. So much had happened that it was overwhelming. For him too, she thought. Many nights they spent sitting in her parlor, supposedly reading, but really just drinking wine and staring at the fire.

xXx

On the Wednesday before the hen party, she received a note from Ginny.

_Dear Hermione,_

_You are my maid of honor. I'm sorry you've been ill. I'll see you at the wedding._

_Love,_

_Ginny_

Hermione wept so openly that Viktor hurried into the kitchen to see what was wrong. She handed him the note and continued crying into her hands. He put his arms around her. "When is the wedding?"

"June fifteenth," she said, wiping her face on her shirt sleeves.

His brow wrinkled, "I think..."

"You have a game. I already checked," she said.

"Ah," he said awkwardly.

"It's alright," she said. "I can go on my own. I'll be fine."

xXx

She felt almost normal at work, but home was another story. She still felt numb most of the time and it was difficult to accomplish much beyond the basics of staying clean and sleeping. She slept a lot, far more than the eight hours she was supposed to need. Viktor didn't say anything, but she could tell he was getting restless. She wished she were restless. She wished she were anything other than blank. The last time she'd cried was when she'd gotten the letter from Ginny and that had been two weeks ago. It was already June. The wedding was soon and still she felt nothing. When Viktor came home for the third night in a row to find her staring at the empty fireplace, he held out his hand, "Come."

She took his hand and he pulled her into the Floo. They stepped out at his flat. "Come here," he said. She followed him into the bedroom, not entirely sure what he was offering. He knew they weren't supposed to have sex for three more weeks. He surprised her by handing her a Quidditch sweater. "Put that on."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him.

"Just do it." He pulled on a similar one. He grabbed her hand and they went back out to the spare room where he worked on his brooms. He handed her a helmet and some gloves. She put them on without comment. He grabbed her hand again and with his other hand grabbed one of his brooms. "Come on," he said.

When they got outside, Viktor turned to her. "We are going to fly. We are going to go very fast and very high. It will be cold. We will do tricks. I know you do not like that, but we are going to do it until you ask me to stop. Okay?"

She nodded. He straddled the broom and she got on behind him.

"Hold tight," he said and kicked off.

She'd flown behind Ron on a broom, and she'd flown on Buckbeak with Harry, but she had never flown this fast before. It was terrifying. When Viktor did the first of a series of barrel rolls, she reached a whole new level of terror. She was dizzy and scared but it felt so good to feel something, anything. When he came out of the second set of barrel rolls, he put on more speed. She held on for dear life. When it looked like he was going to do another set, she cried for him not to. He looked back at her. "Okay," he said and slowed down. They flew back to the townhouse at a reasonable pace. When they landed in the back garden, Hermione realized how tatty it looked and she felt bad. Her mother had always taken such good care of her garden. She didn't have much time to think about that as Viktor took her hand again and led her inside. He left his broom in the corner of the kitchen and led her upstairs to her bedroom.

He started a bath running. She was chilled through and thought a hot bath sounded perfect. He pulled the sweater over her head and she let him continue to undress her until she stood naked before him. She hadn't bothered to cover her scars in weeks. "Come," he said, and got her settled in the tub. When he turned to leave, she grabbed his hand. "Join me," she said quietly.

He looked at her and sat on the edge of the tub. "You know we can't. The healer said—"

"I know, but I…can you just sit with me?"

He stroked her cheek and began pulling off his clothes. She tried to think of the last time they'd been naked together and realized it was the morning before they'd gone to Bulgaria. They'd been sleeping together since they returned, but they'd both been wearing pajamas and they had both taken to changing in the bathroom.

He settled behind her and ran a finger beneath the new scar that ran along her left shoulder blade. He didn't comment. Her flesh goose pimpled at his touch.

As she leaned back against him, Viktor sighed. "I have missed you."

She let her head drop back against his chest. "I've missed you too," she said.

xXx

The next morning over breakfast, Viktor was clearly concerned about leaving her on her own. "But what are you going to do today?" he asked again.

"Putter around the house I suppose. I need to go through my parents' desks downstairs. That's all that's left in the basement and then it's done. I should probably do something with the garden too. I noticed when we landed yesterday that it's looking rather sad, which would break my mother's heart."

He nodded. "Alright. I will not be gone long. There is a team meeting about the European Cup plans, and then I should be done. Are we staying here or at mine tonight?"

"Your choice," Hermione said, and took a sip of coffee. She'd taken to drinking it at home most of the time. Viktor preferred coffee to tea and it seemed silly to make both.

"I will come back here. Perhaps, I can help with the garden."

"That sounds good," she said.

He stood and kissed her lightly on the lips before Disapparating. She read through the paper and finished her coffee. She payed closer attention these days to the sports section. Puddlemere United was listed as qualifying for the European Cup. Viktor was noted for being the key to their success. She smiled at the photo of him catching the Snitch in his last game. She poured herself another cup of coffee and went downstairs.

She'd already dealt with the nursery she'd been working on in the small room connected to her parents' master suite. Although, all she'd done to deal with it was to put permanent locking charms on the doors. She'd left her parents room in a state of partial renovation and closed the door. Her intention had been for her and Viktor to move into that room before the baby was born, but it was too much to face, so they continued sleeping in the room she'd put him in the first night he'd come to London.

It was much easier to deal with the basement. She opened all the blinds to let in as much light as possible and then began to sort through her father's desk. All that was left were some office supplies, personal items, and other flotsam and jetsam that has a tendency to accumulate in desk drawers over time. It was fairly quick work until she came across an unopened pack of Benson and Hedges cigarettes and a pint bottle of Jameson's that only had about a shot left in it. She opened the bottle and tossed back the last of the whiskey before picking up the pack of cigarettes. She wondered if her mother knew he kept this emergency pack around. Her father had stopped smoking a few years before he died, or at least he'd said he did. She opened the pack and smelled the familiar smell. There was a book of matches next to the pack, and on impulse she lit one. She'd smoked before in moments of teen angst when she was on holiday with her parents and found herself with a bunch of Muggle kids who smoked, but she'd never found it particularly compelling. Now though, the smoke was strangely soothing and the smell filled her with nostalgia as she thought of sitting in her father's lap as a child while he read to her and he smelled of smoke. It was a warm safe smell for her. She smoked the cigarette while she finished cleaning out the desk and then tucked the rest of the pack in her pocket before heading back upstairs. No need to bring the matches. She was a witch after all. Her mother's desk could wait for another day.

xXx

When Viktor got home that afternoon, Hermione wasn't in the house. He found her in the back garden on her hands and knees ripping out weeds.

"What are you doing?"

She glared up at him. "Gardening."

"Like a Muggle? Why?"

She wiped her brow with the back of her wrist. "I have no idea. I guess I thought…oh screw it, this is stupid." She drew her wand and shoved her left hand into the earth she'd churned up weeding. She closed her eyes and within minutes the garden was weeded and in full bloom.

Viktor smiled at her. "I have never seen anyone cast Herbivicus that way."

She got to her feet, dusting herself off. "You're always saying things like that. Why?"

He wrinkled his brow. "Like what?"

"You comment on my magic a lot, always with a subtle tone of surprise. Do you not understand what it is that I do?"

He cocked his head. "Of course, I know what you do. You work at the Ministry as an…um…wait…it is something about not talking. No. That is not right."

"Unspeakable," she said.

"Yes," he said and smiled.

"But do you understand what that means?"

His smile faded. "Honestly? No."

She began to laugh. "Why didn't you just ask?"

His cheeks went red. "You were so excited to get the job and it seemed like you thought I knew what it was, so I was embarrassed to say I did not know. I went to look it up at the library, but I could not find anything, so I thought I had the word wrong, but you said not to tell anyone, so I could not ask the librarian. By that point, too much time had passed to ask you, so I thought I would figure it out over time, but I have not. I know you work very hard, so many hours, but for the life of me Hermione, I do not know what it is that you do. I am sorry."

She put a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing again. She composed herself and smiled at him. "Ironically, I can't tell you exactly what I do, because it's unspeakable, hence the title. However, I can tell you that I work with magic at its core in its most pure and malleable state."

He narrowed his eyes at her and crossed his arms. "That does not sound safe."

She squeezed his arm. "I'm careful, but yes, it can be dangerous to manipulate magic in new ways. Although, what that means in terms of applied magic is that you're going to see me do things on occasion that are…different…from how you may have seen them done before. For example, I can cast Herbivicus in a variety of ways." She drew her wand again and used it to conjure a wreath on the back door. "Like that." She flicked it at a rose bush and it began to bloom and grow rapidly. "Or that." She pulled back her wand and then arced it through the whole garden turning all the flowers white. "Or that."

Viktor looked impressed.

She flicked her wand at the rosebush again and it returned to normal.

"So, you mostly work with plant magic?"

She shook her head. "Actually no. I never work with plants. Look, it took me a year to get this job. The trials were unbelievably challenging. I started out with six other applicants. I was the only one who finished the trials and was hired. Most years they don't hire anyone. At this point, I can honestly say, there is no form of daily magic that I can't do. If I don't have easy access to a spell book, I can usually parse out how to perform a spell just from knowing the underlying magic. Obviously, looking it up is faster, but in a pinch, I don't really need to for the vast majority of spells."

"That is…" He shook his head. "How did I not know this?"

She shrugged. "I don't like to show off." She shook her head. "No, actually that's not true. I love to show off, but I don't, because I don't like to make people uncomfortable and sometimes, power displays make people uncomfortable."

"So, you have been worried about my…" He searched for the word. "Ego?"

She laughed. "Not exactly. Well, maybe, but just a little."

"Stop worrying. I am an international Quidditch star. I have a very strong ego. Do as you please."

She grinned and hugged him. "Fair enough."

He pulled her closer and felt the packet of cigarettes between them. He leaned back and looked down. "What is this?" he said, pulling the packet out of the front pocket of her jeans. "You smoke?"

She shrugged. "On occasion. Why? Does it bother you?"

"No. It is fine. Nikolina smoked."

"Oh."

He tugged her closer. "It is all right, really. I do not mind."

She tilted her head back and kissed him.

When he came out of the kiss, he said, "How much longer before we can be together?"

She groaned. "Too long."

He hugged her tighter. "At least we have tomorrow off so we can go to Oliver's party. A little dancing might be just what we need."


	8. Too Familiar

Just before sunrise, Viktor and Hermione were woken by a persistent tapping. Hermione pushed back her hair and looked up. There was a large owl on the windowsill.

"What is it?" Viktor said as he rolled over.

"Owl." She got up and opened the window. The owl hopped in and she took the letter from his leg. It was written in Bulgarian, so she handed it to Viktor. "Wait here," she said to the owl, as she pulled on her dressing gown. "The treats are downstairs."

When she returned, Viktor was sitting up in bed scowling at the letter. "I have to go to the Ministry. I need a Portkey."

"Why? What's happened?" She gave the owl its treat.

He frowned. "There has been an incident at the bank in Sophia. I need to go and straighten it out. My father has made a fool of himself and my mother is very upset." He rolled out of bed.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said sympathetically. "Do you want me to go with you?"

"Absolutely not," Viktor said firmly. "You are still recovering."

"All right, but at least I can save you the trouble of going to the Ministry. I can make you a Portkey. It's safer that way. The Ministry registers all their Portkeys. I suspect that's how those Death Eaters knew we were in Sophia the last time. We don't want a repeat."

He raised his eyebrows at her. "You can do that?"

She cocked her head at him. "Didn't I just explain all this yesterday?"

"You said daily magic. Making a Portkey is not daily magic."

She sighed. "It's possible that I underplayed my position. There is very little in the way of any kind of magic that I can't do. Okay?"

He looked askance at her. "And you are allowed to make Portkeys?"

She smiled. "Yes. You'd be amazed what an Unspeakable is allowed to do. We're given a tremendous amount of leeway. Get dressed. I'll make the Portkey to take you from here to your parents' house. What time do you want to leave?"

"Give me twenty minutes. I want to take a shower."

"Okay, and I'll leave the return here open. We were supposed to go to that party in Edinburgh tonight. I'm guessing that's not happening now."

"You should go," Viktor said. "I will be there if I can."

"I don't know about going without you. What if I have an issue with the Tentaculus?"

"You haven't had an outbreak in a week. You are probably fine. Go. Have a good time."

"I'll think about it," she said, unconvinced.

xXx

That night Hermione decided Viktor was right. She should go to the party. Oliver was hosting it at his parents' estate in Edinburgh, and she would know a lot of people from the team. She hadn't been out to do anything but go to work or the market since she'd lost the baby. It was time. She couldn't decide what to wear and realized that Viktor had been choosing her outfits when they went out since they started dating. She settled on a short, patterned skirt with a long sleeved white T-shirt. She straightened her hair and put it up in a bun. She cast a quick glamour charm to give her face a little more life than it actually had, but didn't bother covering her scars since no one would see them. She checked her look one last time. She wasn't going to win any fashion awards, but she looked okay, so she took the Floo.

She stepped into an empty hall. A house elf told her the party was outside. She could hear the crowd before she could see it, she opened a door at the end of the hall and stepped out on to a terrace overlooking vast formal gardens. There was a large tent set up over a dance floor. The terrace led down to a fountain that was flowing with multicolored water. On either side of it were champagne fountains. People were everywhere. She helped herself to a glass of champagne and began walking around looking for someone she knew. A moment later, she ran into Oliver.

"Hermione!" he said, grinning and kissing her on the cheek. "Where's Viktor?"

"He had an issue he needed to resolve in Sophia. Hopefully, he'll be able to finish up quickly and make the party."

"I hope so," Oliver said. "I'm glad you decided to come anyway. There's plenty of food and dancing in the tent. Enjoy yourself. Save me a dance, okay?" 

"You've got it," she said smiling.

He hurried away to greet more guests. A tray of hors d' oeuvres floated past and she took one. As she made her way to the terrace below and something more substantial to eat, she ran into Luna. "Hullo Luna. I haven't seen you in ages." The two hugged. "I didn't realize you knew Oliver."

"I don't really," Luna said. "I think all the Gryffindors that were in school when Oliver was got invited. I'm here with Neville."

"Great." Hermione said, looking around for him.

"He's gone to get drinks," Luna said.

"All the Gryffindors, huh? Hermione said, starting to feel anxious about running into Ron. If they were in the same building, she generally sensed he was there, but outside it was harder tell, and if he was around, she wanted to know.

Clearly, Luna knew what she was getting at. "Ginny said she and Harry were planning on being here. She didn't mention Ron. I think he probably won't come, given what happened last time."

Hermione grimaced. "I guess you were at that party."

"Yes," Luna said. "I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to say hello, but I understand why you left so quickly. Ron seemed quite furious."

"I just didn't want a scene," Hermione said, uncomfortable talking about it.

"Hey, Hermione," Neville said as he walked up. He handed Luna a mug of beer and hugged Hermione.

"Hi Neville, how are you?"

"I'm good. I'm doing plant collection for the Apothecary in Hogsmeade. What are you up to?"

"Research and development at the Ministry. How about you Luna? What are you up to?"

"I'm working on the Quibbler with my father, but I've applied to study Magizoology. I should hear whether I've been accepted soon."

The three of them stood chatting for a little while until two of Viktor's teammates came by and grabbed Hermione. "Let's dance!"

Neville and Luna followed and the next couple of hours were spent on the dance floor. Hermione let her worries go and let herself have fun. She was having a fantastic time until someone released pixies, who proceeded through the party scattering glowing pixie dust and Hermione sneezed. She could feel the tentacles burst through her side. She tried to stifle the cry and grabbed her side. Neville was nearby. She grabbed his arm. "Can you get me home?" she gasped.

Neville took one look at her and said, "Of course."

They hurried through the crowd. Luna had gone to the loo but she was coming back down the terrace as they were headed to the house.

"What's wrong?" she said.

Without stopping, Neville said, "I've got to get Hermione home. I'll be back."

Hermione could feel the tentacles growing under her hand so she pressed harder to try to keep them from getting bigger. Neville managed to get her into the fireplace. He threw the Floo powder, she said her address, and they were whisked away.

xXx

When they stepped out of the fireplace into Hermione's parlor, Neville helped her to the sofa. She leaned back and pulled up the bottom of her shirt.

"What do you need?" Neville said, his eyes growing large at the sight of the tentacles.

"There's a large purple bottle of potion in the powder room and a little bottle of Essense of Dittany. Can you get them please?"

Neville ran to the powder room and was back moments later with both bottles.

The tentacles were bigger now and still growing.

"Someone cursed you with Tentaculus?" Neville said, alarm clear in his voice.

"Yes, a while ago, get the Dittany ready." She pulled out her wand.

"What are you doing?" 

"I have to sever them. Then I'm going to need you to put the Dittany on in case I pass out. Then I need a drink of the other potion."

"Pass out?" Neville looked alarmed.

"I need you to focus."

He nodded. "Right." He took the cork out of the bottle of Dittany and waited. "Ready."

"Okay," Hermione said. She raised her wand and cast Diffindo. The tentacles fell away as she cried out. Neville let two drops of Dittany fall on the open wound.

"Are you all right?" he asked. "You've gone pale."

She nodded and willed herself not to faint. She felt a wave of nausea and a headache coming on.

He corked the Dittany and opened the other bottle. "Are you ready for the potion?"

She took a deep breath. "Yes."

He held it to her mouth and she took a swallow grimacing afterward.

"I'll make you a cup of tea," Neville said.

Hermione nodded. "That would be lovely. Thank you." She leaned her head back and rested.

xXx

Neville put the potion bottles away and then went into the kitchen where he filled the kettle before holding his wand to it to make it boil. He was bringing a couple of cups of tea into the parlor when the back door opened.

"Hermione?" Viktor called.

"She's in here," Neville said, setting down the cups on the coffee table.

Viktor came into the room with his wand raised. "Who are you?"

Neville raised his hands palm out. "Neville. Neville Longbottom. A friend of Hermione's from school."

"It's okay, Viktor," Hermione said. "He helped me home from the party."

"Why? What happened?"

"Pixie dust," Hermione said.

"Oh no," Viktor said, stroking her face with the backs of his fingers. "You sneezed."

She nodded.

"I should go," Neville said.

Viktor looked at him. "Thank you for getting her home."

"No problem," Neville said. "Luna will be wondering what's happened." He stepped toward the fireplace.

"Thank you, Neville," Hermione said. 

"Anytime." He smiled at her before being whisked back to the party.

xXx

Viktor picked up the limp tentacles from the floor. "Why did you let them get so big?"

Hermione sighed. "Well, I couldn't very well sever them at the party, now could I?"

There was a pop in the kitchen and Viktor drew his wand again.

"Oh, no," Hermione moaned. "That's Harry."

Viktor looked down at her. "How do you know?"

"That's what his Apparition sounds like."

Before Viktor could respond to that, Harry called, "Hermione?"

"In here, Harry," Hermione said.

"He can just pop directly into your house?" Viktor said scowling.

"Yes." She was so tired. "It's Harry," she said, as if that was an adequate explanation.

"What does that mean?"

"It means that in case of an emergency, I can get to her," Harry said, stepping in front of Viktor and kneeling in front of Hermione. "Luna said Neville took you home and that you were holding your side." His was pushing her shirt up to inspect the thick scar.

"What are you doing?" Viktor shouted, but Harry ignored him.

Hermione yanked her shirt back down. "It's not the scar," she said, lifting the other side of her shirt. "It's here."

Harry rested a hand on her thigh as he leaned in to look at the skin growing over the tentacle wound. "What happened?"

"Hey!" Viktor said, upset at the casual way Harry touched her.

Hermione held up a palm to him and gave him a pleading look. "It's okay." She pulled her shirt back down. "As you can see, I'm fine."

"Those don't look fine," Harry said, pointing to the tentacles still in Viktor's hand. "When were you cursed with Tentaculus?"

"A while ago," Hermione said dismissively. "I'm almost done with the treatment."

"A while ago when?" Harry insisted.

"You don't need to worry about that. I'm fine," Hermione repeated.

Harry ignored her and stood to face Viktor. "Who cursed her?"

Viktor looked at Hermione, who shook her head.

"Harry," she said, but he continued to ignore her and glare at Viktor.

It wasn't easy to be glared at by the wizard who defeated Voldemort. Viktor shifted under Harry's gaze. "Look, we—"

"Viktor!" Hermione shouted struggling to her feet and getting between them. She turned on Harry. "This is none of your concern. I'm handling it."

"You are my concern," Harry said. "You know that."

"Oh really," Hermione said, her anger boiling over. "Then just where the hell have you been for the last six months?"

Harry had the decency to blush. "I'm sorry. I know I haven't—"

"You know what?" Hermione said. "Spare me. You came to check on me. I'm fine. Duty done. Go back to the party. I'm sure Ginny is ready to see you back there."

"Hermione, please. We should talk."

"Fine, but not tonight. I'm exhausted. I'll see you at the wedding in a few days."

"That's not—" Harry started to protest.

"You need to go," Viktor said, putting his arm around Hermione. "She should be in bed."

Harry glared at him but drew his wand and Disapparated.

Viktor scowled at Hermione. "Come on."

She was grateful for his arm around her. All the energy seemed to drain out of her. "I'm sorry."

"We will talk about it in the morning."

She was asleep almost from the moment her head hit the pillow, but Viktor was awake late into the night. Between the trouble with his parents, and then that business with Harry and Hermione, he didn't know what to think. He glanced over at her. She was sleeping peacefully beside him. He shook his head. She was a complicated witch. Her relationship with Harry was confusing. She never talked about her relationship with Ron and rarely mentioned her other friends. She almost never mentioned the war, and when she did, she always downplayed her role and what had happened to her, but he could see the scars. He'd read the accounts. He knew she'd played a pivotal role. He could look at her body and see the toll the war had taken, but he knew it was more than just a physical toll. It wasn't good that she kept it all inside. He knew that, but she seemed unwilling to listen to reason in that regard. She kept her secrets to herself and expected him to keep the ones he knew. It was hard to know what to make of her.

xXx

The next morning, Hermione came downstairs to find Viktor making breakfast. She poured herself a cup of coffee. "Can I help you with anything?" she asked.

"No. I am almost done. Have a seat," Viktor said.

She sat down at the table and a moment later he put a plate of eggs and bacon in front of her. He sat across from her. At the same time, they both said, "We need to talk about last night." They both smiled.

"You first," Viktor said.

Hermione blew out a slow breath. "I'm sorry I never mentioned that Harry had Apparition privileges into the house."

"Yes," Viktor said. "That was surprising. Not as surprising as you letting him lift your shirt, but still very surprising."

"I know that seemed…too familiar, but you have to understand, we lived in such close quarters for so long, we sometimes forget how things might look from the outside. I assure you, Harry has no designs on me nor I on him. He was just concerned."

"Yes, and while you will let him look at you and touch you, you will not tell him how you were cursed. I do not understand this."

Hermione let out a frustrated sigh. "I can't tell him we were attacked by Death Eaters in Bulgaria. He'd go off his nut and get the Ministry and the Aurors involved. He'd go over there. There's no need for that. The Bulgarian Aurors are handling it."

"You seriously think he would do that?" Viktor said, his skepticism obvious.

She nodded. "I don't think it. I know it. You don't know him like I do. And of course, the moment Harry Potter does anything the whole world knows it, which means the press would start investigating why you and I were in Bulgaria in the first place. They'd find a healer or an aide or someone who would talk to them and the next thing you know one of the worst things that's ever happened to me is national news. I don't want that. Do you want that?"

"Of course not," Viktor said.

"Then swear to it," Hermione said flatly.

"What?"

"Be my secret keeper."

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "That is a bit extreme, is it not?" 

"You almost told Harry last night. If I'd been unconscious when you got home, I think you would have. I can't have that, Viktor. I need to be sure you don't tell anyone."

He frowned at her. "What about healers? If something happens to you, I have to be able to talk to them."

She wrinkled her forehead as she considered the problem. "I can structure the bond to account for that."

He sighed. He was afraid she'd say something like that. "Fine." He rubbed his temples with his fingertips. "Do you have any headache potion. My head feels like it's about to split in two."

"Check the potions cabinet in my study," she said.

He got up to get it. A few moments later he came back with two vials of silver liquid in his hand.

"Did you find the potion?" she asked.

"Yes. I already took it. What are these?"

"They're memories. You know that."

"Yes, but why are they in the cabinet instead of in your head?"

She shrugged. "I just haven't gotten around to putting them back in yet."

"You shouldn't leave them out."

"I know. I'll put them back."

"When?" he insisted.

"When I get around to it. What do you care? They're not your memories," Hermione huffed.

He frowned at her. "I know these are painful events for you. I know the thought of remembering in detail upsets you, but it is not healthy to leave them out. The longer they stay out the worse it will be when you put them back in."

She rolled her eyes. "I'll get to it."

"Fine," he said and set them on the coffee table. She scooped them up and took them into the study and stuck them in the back of her potions cabinet. When she closed the cabinet door, Viktor was standing there. He frowned at her.

"Let it go," she said. "Come here." He sighed and came forward. She wrapped her arm around his and they clasped hands and she began the complicated spell that would bind him to secrecy about the events that took place in Bulgaria.


	9. Harry and Ginny's Wedding

The day of Harry and Ginny's wedding, Viktor was playing in the European Cup playoffs with Puddlemere United. Hermione planned to join him in France the next day. The wedding was in the evening as was the tradition in the wizarding world. She spent the better part of the day sitting on the sofa staring at a heatless fire and thinking. She had submitted paperwork the previous day to start the first phase of experimentation in her Apparition study, so she had the next month off, free to attend the wedding and then join Viktor in France. After the European Cup was over, they were supposed to join Todor and Pietra in Cannes. She knew she needed the break. She was exhausted both physically and mentally.

As she stared at the flames, she couldn't help thinking about how the evening was going to go. With the exception of talking to Harry briefly in her house after the party, she hadn't spoken to any of them for months. She didn't know how to break the ice, especially with Ron. She wondered if he would be drinking. Since it was a wedding, chances were that he would be. The last time she'd seen him, he'd not only been drunk, he'd been furious and openly hostile. She hated to think what would have happened if she hadn't Disapparated before he'd reached her and Viktor. She decided if he was drinking at the wedding, she would get through the ceremony and then leave early. She didn't want a scene in front of his family. If he came at her, she didn't trust herself to hold her tongue about why she left, and she didn't want them to know what he'd done. She'd never wanted to drive a wedge between Ron and his family or between him and Harry. He needed them. Without their help he would never be able to pull himself together. He'd sacrificed himself more than once for her and the last time had nearly killed him, so she had sacrificed herself for him when she left. It was clear she couldn't help him. She'd given up everything so he might have a chance to heal. She really hoped he'd gotten help. She couldn't bear the thought of him drunk and destroying himself. Without her there, surely the others had seen how out of control he was and had done something.

Hermione had been thinking for weeks about what she wanted to say in the speech she was to give as maid of honor. It was agonizing to imagine standing in front of everyone given some of the things that had been printed about her lately. She wondered what the family must think of her. The gossip columnists had tried to get them to comment on her break up with Ron, but no one said anything beyond, 'things change' or 'they have to live their own lives.' Of course, she wanted to tell everyone why she left. She wanted them to comfort her and fix him, but no matter how many times she'd thought to tell Harry and Ginny or Molly and Arthur, she could never quite manage to say the words. It felt too much like betrayal and she knew her own behavior hadn't helped. The whole thing had been so humiliating. Now with the distance of half a year, she wished she'd handled it differently. She should have thrown him off the first time he'd gotten too rough. She should have put her foot down about the drinking, and she should have said something to his parents as soon as it seemed like a problem. But she hadn't and now so much had happened it didn't seem like she'd ever get back to anything even remotely resembling her old life, but she missed her friends. Viktor was sweet and fun and good company when he was around, but he was gone a lot, and it would be nice if she could go out with other people when he was away, so she didn't have to be alone so much. She wondered if perhaps today she could start reestablishing some of her friendships. After all, Ginny still wanted her as maid of honor, so she must not completely hate her.

Hermione arrived an hour before the ceremony to help Ginny get ready, not that Ginny needed any help or ever did much in terms of getting ready. Ginny was one of those women who seemed to roll out of bed gorgeous, but she'd asked Hermione to come early, so she Apparated into the back garden and walked up the familiar path. Everything had been spruced up for the big event even though it was clear from all the noise that the wedding would be in the front garden. She could see part of the massive tent behind the house.

She knocked on the door, but no one answered, so she let herself in. The kitchen was the same although immaculately tidy, which was different. She ran her fingers along the wooden table where she'd shared so many meals with Ron's family.

"Hermione?"

She looked up to see Molly enter the kitchen.

"It's so good to see you," Molly said.

Hermione forced a smile. "Hello, Mrs. Weasley."

The older woman gave her a sad smile. "There's no need to go back to formal titles, dear."

Hermione bowed her head. "I'm sorry Molly." And she meant it. She was sorry. Sorry for everything.

Molly eyed her so intently, Hermione began to worry about whether or not she knew Legilimency. She struggled to school her thoughts, but she'd never been very good with Occlumency especially around people she knew.

Finally, Molly spoke, "I don't know what happened between you and Ron, because neither one of you has said so much as a peep about it, but I know this: you didn't just walk away for no reason, you couldn't have, so you won't be condemned for it under this roof. Do you understand?"

Tears came unbidden as Hermione nodded.

Molly gave her a sympathetic smile. "This must be very difficult for you."

Not trusting herself to speak, Hermione nodded again.

Molly put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's all right, dear. We're all glad you came. Most of the family are out front with Harry, but Luna and Ginny are up in Ginny's room. Head up when you're ready."

Hermione nodded again and choked out, "Thank you." She stopped in the powder room to disguise the fact she'd been crying before going up to Ginny's room. She took the crooked stairs she'd traveled so many times over the years. She blew out a slow breath and pressed a hand to her stomach to calm herself before lightly knocking on the door.

"Come in," Ginny called and Hermione opened the door. Ginny and Luna were sitting on her bed looking at a photo album. "Hermione!" Ginny said, and stood to hug her.

Hermione hugged her back and then hugged Luna. Ginny and Luna were both wearing dressing gowns. "You're going for a casual wedding then?" Hermione asked. "Am I over-dressed?"

The other two chuckled. "No, but it's too early to put on all that. You look nice though."

"Thanks," Hermione said, running her hand over the v-neck, crepe dress in a green so deep it was almost black.

"How are you feeling?" Luna asked her.

"Oh, fine," Hermione said. "Much better."

"Neville said you'd been cursed with Tentaculus," Ginny said, her brow wrinkling with concern. "Harry said it looked bad. How did that happen?"

"I'd rather not get into it. It's your special day. Let's not talk about curses."

Ginny narrowed her eyes at her. "Okay. Well, as long as you're feeling better, that's all that matters."

"I do," Hermione said heartily. "Completely cured. Can I get you two anything?"

"Actually, I'd love a pumpkin juice," Ginny said. "I'd get it myself, but I suppose there are too many people milling about now for the bride to make an appearance."

"I'm okay," Luna said.

"Great," Hermione said. "I'll be right back." She slipped out of the room and hurried downstairs. It hadn't occurred to her that anyone would ask about the Tentaculus, which was stupid. Of course, they were going to ask. She needed to come up with a reasonable response. As she was walking to the icebox, she saw Ron standing in the back garden. Her breath caught. He looked fantastic. He had a neatly trimmed beard now that covered the deep scar on his jaw and, while still too thin, he was strikingly handsome in his dress robes. She closed her eyes for a moment and then squared her shoulders and marched forward. Everyone had been nice, but if she really wanted her friends back, she needed to normalize things with Ron. If she could do that, everything else would fall into place.

"Ron," she said. "It's so good to see you."

"Yeah," he said. "You too." He looked around. "So, where's Krum gotten himself off to?"

"I didn't bring him," she said, startled that as a Quidditch fan Ron wouldn't know where Viktor was. "Puddlemere United is in the European Cup. He's playing tonight. Actually, I was hoping you and I could—"

A woman appeared from behind her, perhaps she'd been in the powder room, but now she bounced to Ron's side and smiled at Hermione. "Hello," she said, holding out her hand. She was stunning. She was tall, only a few inches shorter than Ron. She had legs that seemed to go on forever and they were on display in a full length fitted dress with slits up both sides of the skirt. Her hair was straight, black, and shiny and hung to the middle of her back. Her eyes were the same piercing blue that Ron's were and the same color as her dress. The word's 'Amazonian beauty' came to mind. Hermione, feeling short, haggard, and plain, shook her hand.

"Hermione, this is Willa Vance. Willa, Hermione Granger."

"Ooh," Willa said. "Hermione Granger, wow. I mean, I guess I knew you'd probably be here, but…wow."

Hermione glanced at Ron. She couldn't tell if this woman was for real or if she was being mocked in some way.

"Is Viktor Krum here too?" Willa asked in an awed whisper.

"No," Hermione said, stunned that anyone thought he would be. Apparently, no one followed Quidditch anymore.

Ron's cheeks went crimson. "Well, we should find Mum and Dad," he said to Willa. "You haven't met them yet."

Willa's eyes went wide with obvious excitement. "Right," she said with a little squeal and took his arm.

Hermione gave them a tight smile before they hurried away. She went back inside and got three bottles of pumpkin juice from the icebox, forgetting that Luna didn't want one. When she stepped back into Ginny's room, Ginny said, "Luna's gone to the loo. Is it a madhouse downstairs yet?"

"Not in the back, but it does sound like more people are out front."

"Three hundred people are going to be here."

"Seriously?" Hermione said.

"Harry Potter is getting married," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "The Ministry people begged us not to have a small affair. And I mean that, they actually begged. Turns out it was really hard to narrow it down to just three hundred. The first list was over five hundred."

"Oh, good grief," Hermione said grimly, handing Ginny a bottle of juice. The night was shaping up worse and worse.

"So, listen," Ginny said. "About that curse."

Hermione shook her head. "I didn't want to say anything in front of Luna, but it was an incident at work. I can't really talk about it." It was amazing how easily the lie slipped from her lips. It was convenient to have a top-secret job at times.

"Oh," Ginny said. "So I guess you made it through the trials. You're an Unspeakable."

"Yes."

"Good for you."

"Thanks," Hermione said, feeling her cheeks go pink."

"Not cool about the curse though."

"Definitely not," Hermione said. "But it's not like it'll happen again."

"Good," Ginny said.

Luna came back in. Hermione pointed to the extra bottle of juice. "I brought you one too."

"Thanks," she turned to Ginny. "We should probably get dressed." She turned back to Hermione. "You look tired. Are you not sleeping?"

"Stop looking past the charms, Luna," Hermione said, irritated.

"Sorry," Luna said.

Hermione sighed. "It's okay. I've just had a lot going on, but I'm about to spend a few weeks in France, so I'll be getting plenty of rest soon enough."

"Oh really?" Ginny said. "Harry and I are doing the grand tour for the rest of the summer. We'll be spending some time in France as well."

They chatted about the best places to go in Europe while Ginny and Luna got dressed. When they were done, Hermione couldn't help smiling. Ginny was stunning in her wedding dress, which was plain white silk in front but had a opal on white embroidered unicorn on the back that ran the full length of the dress.

"Wow," Hermione said. "You look amazing."

Ginny grinned at her. "Thanks." She looked at Luna, who was beautiful in her own right in a sky blue, silk sheath dress. "Do you mind checking if they're ready for us."

"Not at all," Luna said and stepped out of the room.

"Listen, Hermione," Ginny said. "Ron said he was bringing—"

"I've already met her."

"Really? When?" Ginny asked.

"When I went to get the juice."

"So, he actually brought her?" Ginny was clearly disappointed. "I kind of thought she might be a figment of his imagination."

"No, she's very real," Hermione said with a weak smile.

"What's she like?" Ginny asked.

"Gorgeous. Your kind of gorgeous only taller and more buxom with black hair. Stunning really." Hermione said tightly.

"Oh," Ginny said. "I—"

Hermione held up a hand. "Don't. It's fine. We've both moved on."

"Right," Ginny said quietly.

Luna opened the door and stuck her head in. "They're ready."

xXx

The ceremony was beautiful. Harry and Ginny said their vows under an arch of roses with Hermione and Luna on one side and Ron and Neville on the other. When they were pronounced husband and wife, fairies flew into the tent swirling around the arches in the fabric and then back out into the night to settle like twinkling lights in the shrubs that surrounded the tent. Dinner was served and Hermione was seated across from Willa and Ron. She noted that Ron had turned the two wine glasses in front of his plate upside down and was only drinking from the water goblet. That was heartening. She hoped it meant he'd stopped drinking or at least cut way back. Still it was difficult to eat with Willa constantly cooing over Ron. She was as fawning as Lavender had been, only it was made worse by her stunning good looks and vapid conversation. Lavender may not have been a genius, but she wasn't stupid. She was bright enough to stay in school past her O.W.L.S. and she'd managed five of those, not two, which is all Willa had squeaked out before she'd left school entirely, which she didn't mind telling anyone who was listening. She chatted incessantly about Quidditch. She kept asking Hermione questions about Viktor, which made both Ron and Hermione incredibly uncomfortable, but Willa didn't seem to notice.

"So how does he like his broom trimmed?" Willa asked in a conspiratorial tone.

Hermione arched an eyebrow at Ron. Once again, she couldn't tell if this witch was being serious, or if she was making a crude double entendre. Ron's cheeks were so red they looked in danger of catching fire. He glanced away from Hermione and pretended to inspect a dinner roll. Irritated, Hermione said, "I wouldn't know."

"No?" Willa said, clearly surprised. "Why not? Don't you help him with broom maintenance?"

Hermione cocked her head. "No. Why would I do that?"

George was seated on one side of Hermione and Fred was on the other. They were both grinning like fools delighted at the whole conversation.

"Well, if I was dating a Quidditch player, I'd help him. I'd wax his handle and I'd—"

"Does she wax your handle, Ron?" Fred asked straight faced.

Angelina, who was seated on his other side, swatted his arm.

But Willa answered innocently, "Of course I do. I work at Quality Quidditch Supply. We have excellent maintenance kits. I made sure Ron had our best one."

"I bet you did," George sputtered.

Ron gritted his teeth and Hermione noticed the muscles in his jaw clenching and unclenching repeatedly.

"You should bring Viktor to the shop," Willa said to Hermione. "I could get you two a really good discount. What do you fly?"

"Fly?" Hermione said.

"Yes, what sort of broom to you have?" Willa asked patiently, as if perhaps Hermione wasn't too bright.

Hermione shook her head. "I don't. If I'm on a broom, then Viktor is flying it, and he has several brooms of different sorts."

Ron looked at her and scowled briefly when she mentioned flying with Viktor.

"You don't have a broom of your own?" Willa asked, clearly appalled. "Well, you should definitely come in. A witch needs her own broom." She looked at Angelina. "Am I right?"

"Well, I have my own," Angelina said awkwardly.

"See," Willa said to Hermione. "You've got to come in."

"I'm not much of a flyer," Hermione said dryly.

"But—"

Ron grabbed Willa's hand. "Willa! She doesn't like to fly."

"But that's crazy," Willa said quietly.

Ron sighed. "Yeah, well, be that as it may, she's not going to come into the shop."

"Oh, I might," Hermione said, irritated that Ron felt the need to speak for her. "It might be a good place for gifts come birthdays and Christmas."

"That would be great," Willa said. "Can you imagine if I sold something that Viktor Krum used?" She squeezed Ron's hand with the excitement of the thought.

"Yeah, that'd be great," Ron grumbled.

Willa took a bite of her steak and there was a moment of blissful silence. It didn't last. She looked at Hermione with confusion registering on her face. "So, if you don't fly or play Quidditch, what do you and Viktor Krum do together?"

Hermione felt her cheeks go hot. Fred nudged her. "Yeah, Hermione, what do you and old Vik get up to?" On the other side of her George arched an expectant eyebrow.

Ron looked fit to be tied as he glared at Willa who was oblivious to both the implications of her question and Ron's ire.

Hermione's mouth dropped open, but she was saved from having to make any kind of response by the tinkling of a fork against glass as Arthur rose to give his speech. Molly was next, followed by Ron, who gave the best man's speech. Hermione couldn't bear to listen to what Ron had to say, and since Willa sat in rapt attention, Hermione took the opportunity to try and choke down some of her dinner. When Ron finished speaking, it was her turn. During everyone else's speeches there could be heard the subtle murmuring and clink of silverware and dishes that are naturally part of a crowd of three hundred people even when they're being quiet, but as Hermione took the podium a hush fell over the room. She swallowed hard. All of these people had read the article in _Witch Weekly_ that had painted her as some sort of camp follower rather than an essential part of the destruction of Voldemort. She touched her wand to her neck and her voice rang clear through the tent even though she spoke quietly.

"Good evening," she said. "I've known Harry since I was eleven-years-old and Ginny since I was twelve. I can't imagine two people more suited to each other or more deserving of happiness. During the war there were so many times when even imagining a day like today was impossible. I'm so happy we're all here to enjoy it." She held up her glass to Harry and Ginny. "I wish you both all the best. And here's to this being just one in a lifetime full of wonderful days together."

She took her seat and the murmuring started up again. She had the last speech, so the dinner plates disappeared in preparation for dessert. There was a call from the other end of the table and Hermione felt little hands on her arm as Teddy pulled himself into her lap. She caught him to keep him from sliding off and he rested his head against her breast, his hair immediately going ginger. She blinked back the tears that formed. Holding him was painful so soon after losing her own baby. Tonks hurried up.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione," Tonks said. "I can't turn my back for one second without him running off."

"Oh, it's okay," Hermione said, as Tonks lifted Teddy off her lap. As she did so, his hair went blue again.

A stray tear slipped down Hermione's cheek, and she quickly wiped it away, only to realize Ron had seen it. The pained expression on his face left her gutted. "Excuse me." She stood hurried away from the table. She went in the direction of the portable lavatory that had been set up for the guests but walked past it and behind the house into the back garden. Her dress had a magical pocket with an extension charm. She pulled out her cigarettes and snapped her fingers to light one as she paced in the garden trying to decide if she could make it through the rest of the evening. She was surprised a few moments later to be joined by Angelina.

"Are you doing okay?" she asked as she walked up holding two glasses of white wine.

Hermione nodded her head and took another long drag on the cigarette. "Sure. I just needed a quick fag before dessert."

Angelina arched an eyebrow. "Since when do you smoke?"

"Oh, off and on for ages," Hermione said. It wasn't entirely untrue although it had mostly been off until recently.

"Uh huh," Angelina said knowingly and handed her one of the glasses of wine. "For what it's worth, that woman Ron brought is unbearably beautiful and insufferably dim, and you're handling it a lot better than I would."

Hermione gave her a slight smile. "Thanks."

"I'm sure it would be better if Krum were here," Angelina added.

"I don't know about that," Hermione said. "She wouldn't shut up about him at dinner. Imagine how much worse it would've been if he'd actually been here."

"I guess that's true," Angelina said. "What is wrong with her? Who talks about how great their boyfriend's ex-girlfriend's new boyfriend is?"

Hermione shook her head and rolled her eyes. "That's bollocks, right?"

"I mean, seriously, could she really be that thick?"

Hermione chuckled.

Angelina smiled. "I guess we should get back. Dessert is probably on the table."

Hermione nodded, finished her wine, and stubbed out the last bit of her cigarette and made the butt disappear. "Right," she said. "Once more unto the breach."

Angelina nodded and they walked back to the tent and took their seats.

xXx

Hermione was pretty sure Ron had said something to Willa while she was gone, because Willa didn't mention Viktor anymore, and had the hurt expression of a scolded puppy. Either way, Hermione was grateful for the small favor and enjoyed her dessert which consisted of a small fruit tart (Harry's favorite) next to a small chocolate éclair (Ginny's favorite) and a nice glass of champagne. She noted that Ron didn't drink the champagne, but instead slid it over to Willa. She seemed pleased by this and the hurt expression disappeared.

After dessert, everyone stood and stepped to the edges of the tent. The tables sank into the ground and their tops expanded to form a dance floor. A stringed quartet began playing a waltz and Harry and Ginny took to the floor for their first dance as husband and wife. Hermione knew Harry must be very nervous to dance in front of everyone. He started out fairly stiff, but after a few moments, he relaxed and settled smoothly into the dance. After the first song, other couples began joining them on the dance floor. A tray floated by with several glasses of wine on it. Hermione took one and watched the couples twirling to the music. She wished Viktor were there. She liked to dance and Viktor was a very good dancer. She was surprised to see Ron lead Willa on to the dance floor. Ron had never been much of a dancer and had never shown any interest in learning, but it was clear he'd taken lessons at some point in the last few months, because he seemed quite comfortable leading Willa through several ballroom dances. Watching them left her with a hollow feeling inside, which she did her best to fill with wine every time a tray floated by.

George appeared at her side. "Granger," he said. "I hear you cut a mean rug."

She arched an eyebrow at him.

He smiled at her. "Me too." He held out his hand. "Join me."

 _Why not?_ she thought. It had to be better than watching Ron twirl around with his Amazonian goddess.

George was a fantastic dancer. He knew all the ballroom dances and kept her on her toes for the next hour. Finally, she begged off to catch her breath and use the loo. On her way back, she ran in to Harry, who said, "You haven't danced with the groom yet," and held out his hand.

She took it and he led her out on to the dance floor. It was a Viennese waltz and Harry surprised her by sliding right into it. She wished it hadn't been such a romantic piece. There were so many cameras about and she was still very sensitive about the article. Harry didn't seem to care. As they danced, he said, "How's your evening going?"

"Fine," she said tightly.

"That bad, huh?"

"It's not bad. It's fine," she said without looking at him.

"Have you noticed Ron isn't drinking?" Harry asked.

"I did notice. I think that's good. Maybe we can avoid any more interviews."

Harry sighed. "Yeah. I'm sorry about that. I knew he was trashed that night. I should have seen him home."

Hermione shook her head. "It's hardly your fault. You're not his keeper."

"Well, if it's any consolation, the entire family gave him what for about it."

"It's really not," she said grimly.

"I know," he said. "It was awful when I had to tell Ginny the truth," he said as they performed the classic lift.

When she came down Hermione was completely aghast. "You did what?" she hissed.

"I told her the truth," Harry said. "I had to."

"Why?" Hermione cried, struggling to keep her voice low.

"Because she asked me point blank. I wasn't going to lie to her."

Hermione was grateful that she'd been sent to dance lessons and cotillion after cotillion as a child, otherwise she would have tripped all over herself with the shock of Harry's confession. "And you didn't think to mention this until now?" she finally said.

"I haven't seen you, except for the other night and that didn't seem like a good time to bring it up. I certainly wasn't going to tell you in a letter."

"Of course not. How did she take it?"

"Well, actually. I think she'd suspected as much about you and me for a long time. She was a bit surprised about Ron, but she understood that it wasn't like what was implied by the article. She understood that it was an isolated incident precipitated by the Poacher's Curse." He blithely spun her around. When she faced him again, he said, "She asked for the whole truth and I told her and now it's fine."

Hermione felt so ashamed. She shook her head and looked away. "I can't…she seemed okay when I saw her earlier, but—"

"She is okay. I told you, she understands: Poacher's Curse, pressure cooker, teenage hormones. It happened. It's not like any of us have any interest in it happening again. Actually, her primary concern was with whether or not that was what wrecked you and Ron."

Hermione looked at him. "It wasn't."

"I told her I didn't think it was."

The song ended and Harry let her go. Hermione couldn't get away from him fast enough. She grabbed a glass of wine off a floating tray and stepped out of the tent for some fresh air. She needed to go home. She lit a cigarette and tried to calm down. She didn't know how she was supposed to face Ginny. As if she knew what Hermione was thinking, Ginny came to stand beside her.

"Hey," Ginny said.

"Hi," Hermione said without looking at her.

"Harry told me he told you," Ginny said. "On a scale of one to ten, how freaked out are you?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Hermione asked.

"I'm alright. I've suspected for a while. When the article came out, it just gave me a reason to ask."

Hermione glanced at her.

"It was obvious something changed while you were looking for the Horcruxes. Harry stopped looking at you?"

"Because he only has eyes for you" Hermione said.

"But he doesn't do that with other women, which got me thinking when that started, because he wasn't always like that around you."

Hermione felt hot; a wave of nausea washed over her.

"It was after the hunt for the Horcruxes that he stopped looking at you. And then Ron gave that stupid interview and Harry was so angry about the things Rita implied about you three. He was really furious, but it was like he was angrier at Ron than he was at Rita, which isn't like him at all. And then he stopped looking at Ron, so I had to ask."

Hermione felt sick. "What do you want me to say, Ginny?" she asked in a hoarse whisper.

"Nothing," Ginny said. "It had nothing to do with me and it's not like it'll happen again."

"Of course not," Hermione said. "It's not like it was consensual. We were cursed."

"I know," Ginny said. "The Poacher's Curse, nasty business that one."

"You've no idea," Hermione said quietly. The ghosts of that night still haunted her.

"I'm sorry," Ginny said. "Is that what did it?"

"Did what?"

"Is that what broke up you and Ron? Harry says no, but it stands to reason..."

Hermione shook her head. "No. I mean, I'm sure it didn't help, but it was a lot of things."

"Mmm," Ginny said, noncommittally. "But you and I, we're okay, right?"

"Right." But Hermione didn't feel okay.

"And you're happy with Krum?"

"Viktor is a good man."

"Harry said Viktor was pretty upset the other night when he went to check on you."

Hermione shook her head. "That was my fault. I should have told him Harry had direct Apparition privileges into the house."

"I can see how that would upset him."

"Right?" Hermione said. "And Harry's too familiar with me. He barged in and started looking me over like we were in the middle of a battle. It's like he forgets our lives are different now."

"He feels responsible for you and Ron," Ginny said gently.

"There is no me and Ron anymore, and even if there were, Harry's not responsible for us."

Ginny made another non-committal noise. "Good luck with that."

Hermione sighed.

"I should probably get back to the party," Ginny said. "What with being the bride and all."

Hermione chuckled softly. "Right."

As Ginny walked away, Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath and began pushing it all back down, all the guilt and lust and pain and humiliation. She pushed and pushed until it was all tightly back where it belonged in the big box of failures in her mind. She ground out her cigarette and started to plan her exit strategy when she felt Ron come up behind her. Magic surrounds a witch or wizard in a field that some people would call an aura, and Hermione was so familiar with Ron's that she could sense it as he approached. "Hello Ron," she said without turning around.

"Hi," he said quietly as he stepped next to her. "I thought you might want to dance. You know, best man and maid of honor."

She glared at him. "Absolutely not."

"Come on," he said, his eyes soft and pleading.

She turned to face him. "There are too many cameras around. One picture of you and I dancing would be worth a fortune to _Witch Weekly_. They'd spin it into evidence of me cheating on Viktor."

"Ah," he said sadly. "Right."

"They do seem to enjoy making me out to be some sort of horrid tart and I'd thank you to stop helping them," she said furiously but keeping her voice low.

"Yeah," Ron said. "I'm really sorry about that. I was—"

"Drunk," Hermione finished for him. "I know. You do so love to hurt me when you're drunk."

"Hey," he said, but she walked away from him.

The music in the tent changed from formal ballroom to contemporary. Hermione looked up to see that the stringed quartet had been replaced with a DJ stand and Lee Jordan was spinning the music. George appeared again, and said, "Finally, something we can really dance to."

Hermione looked around and realized most of the oldest witches and wizards had left. She followed George toward the dance floor. She finished her glass of wine as she went and left it on a side table before he pulled her on to the dance floor. She was definitely feeling the wine, and the buzzing in her head coupled with the conversations with Harry and Ginny and then Ron's bizarre request for a dance left her feeling a strong desire to get out of her head, and dancing was always good for that. As it turned out, George knew how to swing dance which was Hermione's favorite. They danced for four songs before she needed a break. She was getting another glass of wine from one of the fountains when Ginny and Luna joined her.

"I wish I'd thought to ask for ground fog for this bit," Ginny was saying. "It looks so cool when you dance in it."

Hermione smiled and drew her wand. She held out her hand and waved her wand in tight circles over it until a dense ball of fog had formed in her palm. She crouched down and blew the ball of fog on to the floor where it expanded and spread out over the dance floor but hugged the ground.

"That's fantastic!" Ginny said.

"Very nice spell work, Hermione," Luna added.

Hermione smiled. "Thanks."

"Why would you know that spell?" Luna asked curiously.

Hermione shrugged. "It's an elemental. Just a different way to cast Aguamenti, that's all."

"Ah," Luna said, but she cocked her head and looked at Hermione in that intense way of hers.

"Come on, Hermione," George said holding out his hand. "Break's over."

She chuckled and shook her head but took his hand anyway.

xXx

Ron stood staring at George twirling Hermione around the dance floor. He marveled at the ease with which the two moved together. If he hadn't been pretty sure George was gay, he would have been jealous. As it was, it just left him with a hollow feeling. He glanced over to the other side of the tent where Willa was chatting with another witch she knew. He couldn't think why he was dating her. Willa threw her head back and laughed at something the other witch said and her hair cascaded over her shoulder and her perfect white teeth flashed and he remembered that he was dating her because she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in real life, and he'd chosen her specifically to hurt Hermione. But now, as he watched Hermione dance with George, he felt like an idiot, and worse, an asshole, which is probably why Hermione had left him in the first place. After all, he'd told her to go. He couldn't believe he'd done that. He sighed. Although, when he thought about it honestly, he knew he'd told her to go for her own safety. He couldn't seem to control himself around her then, couldn't seem to stop trying to provoke her into some kind of response, and yet, no matter what he did, he couldn't make her fight back, couldn't get a rise out of her. When he couldn't fix their relationship, he'd completely destroyed it. He wished he hadn't done that. As George swung Hermione out with a waist slide, Ron's soul howled.

"Stop it," Ginny said, coming up behind him.

"What?" Ron said, without looking at her.

"Stop staring at Hermione, you're starting to draw attention to yourself."

"I don't care," Ron said.

"Well, I do," Ginny said, pinching him above his elbow.

"Ow," Ron said, turning to glare at her.

"Stop. It," Ginny repeated. "Go dance with your own girl."

"I can't stand her," Ron said grimly. "She's insufferable."

"Then why did you bring her?"

Ron glanced away and felt his cheeks go hot.

"Oh, for goodness sake," Ginny said, clearly exasperated. "You have to stop this."

"I stopped drinking," Ron said.

"I know." Ginny rested her hand on his forearm. "And that's great."

"Not really. I'm too late. She's moved on."

"And you can too. Just please, pick someone with half a brain next time."

Ron shook his head. "No. I just need a plan."

"A plan for what?" Ginny asked worriedly.

"To get her back."

Ginny sighed. "Ron…"

He turned to her. "I'll get her back. We belong together. It's fine that she's with Krum now. That won't last. They're not meant to be together. We are. I just need a plan to make myself worthy, so when she's ready to come back to me, I'll be worth coming back to."

"Oh, Ron," Ginny said.

He smiled at her. "Don't worry about it. I'm fine. This will all work out. You'll see." He walked away from her and out into the night.

Ginny sighed and went to find her husband.

xXx

After another hour of dancing and two more glasses of wine, Hermione could barely stand much less dance anymore.

"Come on, kid. Let's get you home." George said, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her upright as they headed for the fireplace. The Floo was always a more or less nauseating experience for Hermione, but after so much wine, it was definitely more nauseating. When they stepped out of the fireplace into her parlor she stumbled as she ran to the powder room and promptly emptied her stomach into the toilet.

"You okay there, Granger," George said, leaning against the doorjamb of the powder room.

Hermione sat down on the floor next to the toilet and let her head rest against the wall. "I'm fine," she said weakly.

"Uh huh," George said with amusement.

"Seriously," Hermione said. "I'm good." She leaned over and vomited again.

"Sure. You certainly seem fine." He left and Hermione threw up twice more. She flushed the toilet and leaned against the wall. George reappeared and handed her a glass of water. She rinsed out her mouth and spat the remains in the toilet, before drinking the rest of it.

"Do you have any potions around for nausea."

She did because of the morning sickness. "Orange bottle, bottom shelf," she said.

He took the bottle out of the medicine cabinet and handed it to her. She swallowed a mouthful and handed it back to him. He set it back on the shelf and held out his hands. "Ready to get up?"

She took his hands and he pulled her to her feet but she pitched forward.

"Whoa," George said, steadying her. When she stabilized, he said, "Let's get you to bed."

She looked at him feeling somewhat alarmed.

He laughed. "That wasn't a proposition, Granger. Come on. You're all the way at the top, right?" he said.

"Not anymore," Hermione responded weakly. "I'm just on the first floor, first door. I can make it up though. You don't have to stay." She stumbled as she said it and George tightened his grip on her waist.

"Why don't we just get you upstairs and then I'll go."

They made their way up to the bedroom she thought of as Viktor's. George got her over to the bed. She fell back, grateful to finally be able to lay down.

xXx

George opened a couple of drawers looking for something for her to sleep in. He couldn't help noticing Viktor's clothes here and there: a belt draped over a chair, a pair of boots in the corner, a pair of underpants on top of the laundry basket. "So, Viktor lives here?"

"No," Hermione said. "He stays here sometimes. He has his own flat in Diagon Ally."

"Oh," George said. He finally found her pajama drawer and pushed aside some silky things that he was sure looked smashing on her in favor of a simple pink cotton gown. When he turned around, her eyes were closed. He set the gown on the end of the bed and leaned down to take off her shoes. He felt her fingers in his hair and looked up. She looked so sad. He took her hand and squeezed it. "You're okay."

She shook her head and squeezed her eyes closed again. "I haven't been okay in a long time."

"What happened with you two?"

A tear slipped. "It all fell apart. I couldn't fix it."

"I'm so sorry."

She wiped her face with the back of her hand. "It's okay."

"Right," he said, getting to his feet. "I put a gown on the end of the bed for you."

"Thanks, George," she said, sitting up.

"Goodnight," he said and headed for the door, but he stopped and turned around, "And Hermione, for the record, you're a hell of a dancer, and Ron's an idiot."

She smiled and nodded through her tears.

He smiled sympathetically and left.


	10. The European Cup

The next morning, Hermione woke with a splitting headache and a crushing sense of shame for having gotten so drunk at the wedding that George had to bring her home and put her to bed. She made her way slowly into the bathroom and drank down some hangover potion. Feeling better, she took a shower and then went downstairs to the kitchen and had some toast and pumpkin juice. Thus fortified, she got dressed, packed for the next month, shrank her luggage, and then made the Portkey to take her to the hotel in Eus where the European Cup was being played. It was Viktor's birthday, so she didn't want to be late. He'd told her all he wanted for his birthday was to win the game. Apparently, his birthday almost always fell on a game day or right before a game day, so he wasn't accustomed to having a party (unless it was a victory party) or going anywhere special. She hoped they could at least have a nice dinner. She felt bad about missing the start of the cup but hoped to make it up to him over the next month.

Eus was a little town nestled in the Pyrenees. It was charming, and like Godric's Hollow, a split Muggle/Magical community. The Portkey took her to the rooftop of the hotel Maison Glycines. She went downstairs to the front desk and gave her name to the clerk and asked for the key to Viktor's room.

The clerk seemed pleased that Hermione spoke French, at least well enough to be understood, but at the mention of her name, his mouth dropped open. He held out the room key and said several things in an excited rapid-fire French dialect that she didn't quite catch. In the way of travelers all over the world who've lost the thread of conversation in a foreign language, she smiled awkwardly, took the key, and thanked him.

When she'd enlarged her luggage and had gotten settled in the room and freshened up a bit, she went back downstairs and asked the same clerk the way to the European Cup stadium. He gave her the pass that had been left for her, pointed her in the right direction, and told her it was about a ten-minute walk to reach the stadium. The walk through the charming village did much to lift her spirits. The stadium rose huge on a vast field outside of town. She knew it would be invisible to the Muggles who lived predominantly on the other side of the village, but at three times the size of a typical Quidditch arena, it was a sight to behold. She showed her pass at the ticket booth and they directed her to the elevator that took her to the prime box where friends and family of the teams sat. She was greeted by several smiling faces as the men and women she'd gotten to know during the season made room for her to sit down.

The game was already in progress and Puddlemere United was down eighty to one hundred twenty. Viktor was flying high above the rest of the team keeping his eye out for the Snitch. Hermione could tell from the expression on his face that he was irritated with how the game was going. Suddenly, he went into a dive. She didn't see the Snitch, so she couldn't tell if he was performing the Wronski Feint, that he was so well known for, or if the Snitch was really at the bottom of the stadium. Clearly the opposing Seeker thought he was faking and stayed where he was, but one of the Beater's must have seen something flash, because she sent a Bludger spinning toward Viktor, who didn't see it coming, because he was so focused on the Snitch. The other seeker realized what was happening and dove for the Snitch too. About twenty feet from the ground, Viktor's fingers closed over it just as the Bludger came crashing into his shoulder and knocked him from his broom. Hermione gasped as did most of the stadium. The referee called the game for Puddlemere United and the stadium roared. Viktor lay on the ground and didn't get up. The team healers were running on to the pitch, but Hermione didn't feel like they were moving fast enough. She drew her wand and Disapparated to the ground next to Viktor who was just coming around as she appeared.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

He gave her a weak smile and held up the Snitch between his thumb and forefinger.

"Yes, you caught it," she said, smiling back at him. "Can you sit up?"

He went to do so but groaned in pain and stopped.

The healers came up, wands drawn. "Who are you?" one of them barked to Hermione.

"Hermione Granger," she said. "I'm with him."

"You're not supposed to—" one of the healers started to say as the other was inspecting Viktor's shoulder. "Oh," he said, suddenly registering the name. "Oh. Ms. Granger."

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked the healer who was looking at Viktor.

"Broken collar bone." He flicked his wand and the bone snapped back into place with an audible pop. Viktor groaned again. "That'll take care of it, but he'll need to keep it immobilized for twenty-four hours. He's also got a concussion." He waved his wand over Viktor's head. "That should take care of that." He dug around in his bag and handed Hermione a small pink bottle. Two drops under the tongue every four hours until I come by and clear him. We don't mess around with the brain."

Hermione nodded. "Right."

"We should keep him here in the medical tent tonight."

"No," Viktor said. "She can look after me at the hotel."

The two healers looked at each other. The coach approached and they stepped aside to confer with her. Finally, the coach went over to Hermione. "You're sure you'll see that he doesn't move that shoulder and takes his potion?"

The healers were helping Viktor to his feet and the crowd cheered.

"I think I can manage," Hermione said drolly. She'd put the pink drops under Ron's tongue for months. It was disconcerting to see the familiar bottle again.

The coach quirked her lips, considering. "Alright, I'll let you take him back to the hotel. We're not playing again until Wednesday, so I'll come by tomorrow and check on him." She turned to Viktor. "No victory party for you tonight. I want you in bed."

Viktor nodded. The healer was putting his arm in an immobilizing sling. "Alright, how are we going to get him back to the hotel?" he asked the coach.

"I can Apparate with him," Hermione said.

Everyone looked at her.

"Seriously," Viktor said, she once took me side-along and didn't even spill my drink. "She can do double side-along as well. She did it with Harry Potter and their other friend all the time during the war."

Hermione blushed, but nodded. The younger of the two healers snorted, earning him a sharp look from his superior.

"All right," the coach said, looking askance at Hermione.

Without waiting Hermione took Viktor's good arm and Disapparated. They reappeared in front of the hotel, she held the door open for him, and they walked to the elevators.

"For future reference," she said as they stepped into an empty elevator. "Please don't ever say the sentence 'She did it with Harry Potter and their other friend all the time during the war' ever again, okay?"

He looked confused for a moment and then aghast. "I am sorry. I meant double side-along."

She sighed. "I know what you meant. Just please, never again."

He nodded. "I will not."

"Thank you. And by the way, happy birthday."

He smiled weakly. "Thank you. I have had better birthdays, but I have had worse, at least we won."

The elevator doors opened on to their floor and they went into their room. She cast a shielding charm over the sling he was wearing and then cast Deliquesco to leave him otherwise naked. She got him a pair of pajama bottoms and helped him into them, cupping him and giving him a light squeeze as she stood.

He kissed her softly on the lips. "Miss me?"

She groaned. "You have no idea." 

He stuck out his bottom lip in sympathy. "We still have to wait a couple of weeks."

"Don't remind me," she said, pulling back the sheets on the bed, and fluffing up the pillows for him.

"How was the wedding?" he asked as he got settled under the covers.

She sighed. "Exhausting."

"I am sorry I could not be there."

"That's okay. I understand. It wasn't bad, just weird. Ron showed up with this vapid Amazonian goddess who works at some Quidditch shop, and she wouldn't stop talking about you."

"About me?" Viktor chuckled. "That must have been nice for you and Ron."

"Yes, it was great." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Anyway, it was nice to see everyone, especially Harry and Ginny. The ceremony was beautiful, but it was a long night. I drank too much wine. George had to bring me home by Floo, so I'm sure you can imagine how that went."

"George?"

"Ron's brother. One of the twins."

Viktor arched an eyebrow at her.

"It wasn't like that. I'm not his type."

"So, did you vomit on him?" Viktor asked, unable to hide his amusement.

"No, but only because I immediately ran for the powder room."

"Ah," Viktor said.

"Anyway, he was very kind. I'm just embarrassed that he had to take care of me. I shouldn't have had so much to drink."

Viktor shrugged. "Understandable though, given the situation."

She sighed again and pushed the fringe off his forehead. "Have you had any lunch?"

"No," he said, understanding that the conversation was over.

xXx

After Hermione went out to get them both something to eat, they spent the rest of the day reading in bed. Hermione told the alarm clock to wake her every four hours, so she could give Viktor the potion, and they both went to sleep early.

When the alarm woke them, Hermione put two drops of the potion under Viktor's tongue and he drifted back to sleep. She took her wand and cigarettes and went out on to the balcony. The moon was full and lit up the village like something out of a fairytale. The mountain air was cool, so she cast a warming charm, lit a cigarette, and leaned against the balcony railing. As the warm smoke filled her lungs, she thought about the wedding. She'd gone there hoping to reestablish friendships, and while everyone was kind, and no one seemed to blame her for anything, she knew now she wasn't going to be able to spend time with Harry and Ginny as she'd hoped. There was simply no way to normalize her relationship with Ron. Throughout the evening, she'd caught him staring at her with an expression that looked a lot like hurt. What did he have to be hurt about? She didn't leave him bruised and feeling like a piece of meat on the kitchen table. She didn't tell him to go, although she probably should have. She closed her eyes at the painful memory and took another long drag on her cigarette. At least he hadn't been drinking at the wedding. That was certainly a good sign, and she hoped he stayed sober, at least for that vapid beauty's sake. She finished her cigarette and went back to bed.

When the alarm went off again, Viktor was already awake. "What's wrong?" she asked as she put the drops of potion under his tongue.

"I am stiff and uncomfortable," he said. "It is hard to sleep in this thing." He tugged at the sling.

She stilled his hand. "Leave it alone. It has to stay immobilized for twenty-four hours."

He sighed. "I know." He growled in frustration. "It is making me crazy." He shook his head. "Sorry."

She smiled at him sympathetically. "Don't be sorry. Just don't mess with it. You need to relax."

"It is hard to do that when I cannot get comfortable."

She kissed his chest and slid her hand into his pajama bottoms. "If only there was something I could do to help you."

"Ooh," he said hopefully. "That seems to be helping."

"Good," she said, sliding down the bed. "Besides, it's your birthday." She winked at him before pulling the blankets over her head.

"You are the best," he moaned as her mouth closed over him.

xXx

A knock on the door woke them later that morning. Hermione pushed her hair back and reached for her dressing gown. "I'll get it," she told Viktor who was stirring beside her. She looked through the little peephole in the door to see Viktor's coach and one of the team healers standing in the hall.

"Oh, bloody hell," she muttered. The coach had said she'd come by to check on Viktor, but Hermione hadn't imagined it would be this early. "The coach and one of the healers are here," she told Viktor. "Just a minute," she shouted at the door.

She hurried over to help him back into his pajama bottoms, cast a quick spell on her hair to tame it a bit, and cast another to have it braid itself as she walked to the door. She opened it and smiled. "Good morning."

The coach and the healer both returned her greeting.

"Viktor's still in bed as per instructions," she said. As they walked over to see him, she grabbed some clothes and went into the lavatory to change. When she stepped back into the room, the healer was finishing his exam.

"It looks good," the healer said. "Leave the sling on until two o'clock though."

"Do I have to stay in bed until then?" Viktor asked. "I would like to get out and walk around."

"You don't have to stay in bed, but I'd rather you didn't leave the room until the sling comes off. I don't want someone jostling you or anything happening that might damage it until it's completely healed."

Viktor sighed.

"Will he be able to play tomorrow?" the coach asked.

"I don't see a problem with that. The concussion seems to be cleared up and his shoulder should be as good as new this afternoon," the healer said.

"Perfect," Hermione said, she ruffled Viktor's hair. "A day in reading will be nice, and then we can go out for dinner tonight."

"That sounds good," the coach said. "Just take it easy and don't be out too late. We want you well rested for the match against the Karasjok Kites.

"Not to worry," Viktor said. "I will be ready."

xXx

Viktor was ready and in fine form as Puddlemere United beat the Karasjok Kites two-hundred and thirty to one hundred ninety. The victory party was outstanding and Viktor and Hermione danced late into the night. They spent the rest of the competition trying to avoid the press as they settled into a routine of team dinners and victory parties on days the team played as they advanced through the cup. On off days, Viktor and Hermione spent their time hiking the area around Eus, sharing meals with Oliver and various other teammates, and lounging around in their hotel room reading. Sex was still off the table for Hermione, but she didn't mind keeping Viktor happy in that regard. He offered to reciprocate without penetration, but she declined. She wasn't ready and he respected that, but it worried him. He had to focus on Quidditch though, but when the cup was over, he planned to check in with her more diligently. He knew losing the baby had been a terrible blow for her. His own feelings about it were mixed.

While he'd been completely willing to raise the child with her, he couldn't help feeling a sense of relief when he didn't have to. Then when they'd returned home to England and he'd gone back to his flat for the first time, there had been an envelope waiting for him, postmarked the same day they'd been attacked. It was from Todor and contained the photograph of Hermione, pregnant and wearing his shirt. When she'd glanced up at him from the photo with that shy smile, he'd felt a lump form in his throat. It had surprised him to feel the loss as well as the relief. He'd taken the photograph into his study and tucked it into the back of an old book of fairytales that he'd had since childhood. He'd have to decide what to do with it later.

As he stood on the balcony of their hotel room in Eus, he pushed all the thoughts about Hermione to the back of his mind. He needed to be completely focused for the last game, which would decide who went home with the European Cup. He was determined that it would be Puddlemere United. They were playing the Vrasta Vultures in the final match, and Viktor wanted to make sure those bastards regretted letting him go.

In the end, Puddlemere United took the European cup from the Vrasta Vultures two hundred and fifty to one hundred. The stadium exploded as Viktor's fingers closed around the Snitch. Confetti came streaming down in a torrential downpour of paper. Fireworks went off high over the stadium and exploded into the Union Jack on one side and the blue and gold badge of Puddlemere United on the other. The box Hermione was in began to empty as friends and family began Apparating to the ground to join the team. Hermione joined them. When Viktor saw her appear he ran over to her, picked her up, and swung her around. She wrapped her legs around him and kissed him with both hands on his face. "You did it!" she shouted. He grinned and spun around with her again.

Viktor was named MVP for both the game and the European Cup as a whole. Hermione stood proudly next to him as the coach accepted the large silver cup on behalf of her team. The cheers from the stadium were deafening. The after party wasn't much quieter. Viktor was picked up and carried on the shoulders of his teammates several times. The hotel staff had to keep casting muffling spells on the ballroom to try and contain the noise, but after a while most of the people staying in the hotel just joined the party. It was so late it was early when Hermione and Viktor, exhausted and more than a little drunk, finally made it back to their room.

Viktor was giggling because Hermione couldn't get the key in the lock, which made her giggle, and then she really couldn't get the door open. Finally, she pulled out her wand instead and opened the door with it, which made Viktor laugh even harder. "You can't use a key, but you can remember an unlocking spell."

"Yes," Hermione laughed and opened the door and they stumbled in. She flicked her wand at the door to lock it again and stumbled to the lavatory as Viktor fell face first on to the bed. When she came back into the room, she had two little bottles of hangover potion with her. She set them on the nightstand and pulled off Viktor's shoes before getting undressed and climbing into bed. He was already softly snoring.

xXx

Hermione was awake earlier than she wanted to be the next morning. She drank the potion on the nightstand and instantly felt better. She decided to take a bath and brushed her teeth while she filled the tub. She added bubble bath and sighed in relief as she sank down into the hot water. A few minutes later, Viktor came into the bathroom.

"Thank you for setting out the hangover potion," he said. He pointed to the toilet. "Do you mind?"

"No," she said, closing her eyes and resting her head on the edge of the tub.

He relieved himself, washed his hands, and then brushed his teeth. "That bath looks good. May I join you?"

She opened one eye. "Sure." She moved forward to make room and he got in behind her. He slipped his hands around her waist and kissed the back of her neck. She turned in his arms and went up on her knees to kiss him more fully without having to crane her neck. He slipped his hands up to cup her breasts and they kissed and gently explored each other with their hands until the water started to cool, Viktor whispered, "Come back to bed."

Hermione nodded. The six-week moratorium on sex was over. Viktor stood and helped her out of the tub. He handed her a towel and they dried themselves. He took her hand again and led her into the bedroom. She followed him feeling strangely passive. He got into bed and held his hand out and she got in next to him. He took his time, gently kissing his way down her body. She didn't participate much. She just lay back and tried to stay focused on her body and not let her mind wander to unpleasant thoughts. When he finally settled between her thighs, he took his time there as well, but without his usual teasing. He made her come, kissed her hip and slid back up the bed. He pushed a curl off her forehead as she caught her breath.

"Is it okay to be inside of you?"

She gave him a slight smile and nodded.

He smiled back at her and rolled on top of her, careful to brace himself on his elbows so as not to rest too much of his weight on her. She spread her legs and let him settle into place. He wandlessly said, "Conceptus Prohibere."

Hermione closed her eyes as he slipped inside her, letting out a soft moan as he did so. "You feel so good," he whispered. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye and she could feel it fall against her ear.

Viktor bent to kiss her and realized she was crying. He stilled inside her. "Am I hurting you?"

She shook her head.

"But you are crying." He moved as if to get up, but she wrapped her legs around him to keep him in place.

"Don't."

"I cannot do this if I am hurting you," he said.

"You're not. It's just the spell reminded me. I'm fine. Please don't stop."

"I am sorry. I had to cast it. The healer said—"

"I know." She took his face in her hands. "Please, let's just get through this first time. Okay?"

"Hermione," he said.

She clenched herself around him and thrust up against him. "Please."

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against hers and began to move slowly.

She gave him a minute and then began to match his rhythm, hurrying him along. She didn't want to drag it out. She just needed to be done. The next time would be better. It wasn't that it hurt, at least not her body, but it was emotionally painful, and she wanted to move past it. He seemed to understand what she needed. He wasn't rough, but he sped up, and a few minutes later rolled off of her.

He lay next to her breathing hard and staring at the ceiling. "I am sorry."

"Don't be," she said, as she wiped her face and snuggled next to him. He put his arm around her and pulled her closer.

He shook his head. "That was…that…that was…"

"Awful," she finished for him.

"Yes. I am sorry," he said again, sounding guilty.

"It's not your fault."

"I feel like I pushed you."

"You didn't. I'm fine. I wanted that. I just got a little overwhelmed there for a bit. Next time will be better."

He gave her a half smile. "You still want there to be a next time after that?"

"Yes." She stretched and kissed him. "Thank you."

"For bad sex?" he said, arching an eyebrow at her.

She chuckled. "It wasn't that bad. Believe me, I've had worse. We just had to get through this time."

He sighed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Sometimes, you are a little too strong for your own good, you know that?"

She smiled and kissed his chest before snuggling back against him.

Viktor sighed again and closed his eyes.


	11. Summer Bon Bons

Later that morning, Viktor ordered room service for breakfast and Hermione pulled on one of his T-shirts and sat at the small table with her knees up and her feet on the edge of the chair, a cup of tea in one hand, and a piece of bacon in the other.

"So, they're picking us up in a car?" she said, her forehead wrinkling in concern.

"Yes." He smiled when he saw she was wearing one of his team shirts.

"An actual car?"

"Yes. It is charmed but an actual car."

"Why can't I just make us a Portkey? Then we can meet them there."

Viktor shook his head. "Because we are doing it this way."

She sighed and stared into her teacup.

"Stop worrying," he said, bemused. She was such a little control freak.

"It's such a long drive though," she fretted.

"Only five hours. It will give you a chance to get to know Pietra," he said, smiling. He knew that they would fly most of the way cutting the time of the trip by more than half, but given her feelings about flying, he thought it best not to mention that.

She was still fretting as they checked out of the hotel and went to wait at the curb. They didn't have to wait long. Todor pulled up in a gray Lada Granta. Beside him sat a lovely woman with shoulder length wavy brown hair and piercing green eyes. The two got out and the four exchanged greetings. Hermione was introduced to Pietra. Todor seemed very uncomfortable around Hermione with Pietra there. He stuck his hand out awkwardly, and she shook it, as though they were, at best, casual acquaintances. Todor opened the trunk which was cavernous despite the subcompact exterior of the car and Viktor put their luggage inside before they all got in the car.

"Sit up front with me," Todor told Viktor. "Let the women get to know each other in the back."

"Everyone complied with his request, and they set off down the road with Todor carefully navigating the streets through Eus.

"So, what do you do, Hermione?" Pietra asked.

"I work in research and development at the British Ministry of Magic."

"Ah," Pietra said. "That sounds interesting."

"It can be," Hermione said. "How about you?"

"Like Todor, I'm an artist. I paint portraits, but I also do a lot of murals."

"Your English is very good," Hermione said.

"Thank you," Pietra said. "I studied in Britain under Magenta Comstock for a couple of years. Her death was a great loss."

"Yes," Hermione agreed.

They continued chatting about art as Todor drove them out of Eus and into the countryside. When they reached an isolated stretch of road, Todor drew out his wand and cast a spell to hide the car from Muggles as it rose into the air.

Hermione gasped. Viktor glanced back at her and mouthed 'it is okay.'

She shook her head and gripped the seat cushions.

"You don't like to fly?" Pietra asked.

"No. I detest it."

"Well, perhaps we should just drive then," Pietra said to Todor.

"We cannot do that," Todor said. "It will take twice as long. Relax. She will be fine."

"I don't know," Pietra said. "She's turning rather green."

Viktor glanced back at Hermione. "Oh, set down the car."

"Seriously?" Todor said scowling at him.

"Unless you wish her to vomit in here, yes," Viktor said. "It is okay," he said to Hermione. "Hold on. He will land."

A minute later, Todor put the Lada Granta down in a cow pasture.

Hermione had her door open before he was fully stopped, and the moment he did, she was out of the car and leaning against the bumper as she lost her breakfast.

"I am sorry," Viktor said, coming up behind her. "You did fine on the broom the other day."

Hermione wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "That was terrifying. Besides, a broom doesn't fly anything like a car." She flicked her wand and the vomit disappeared.

"We can drive the rest of the way then," Viktor said.

"No. Todor's right, that'll take forever. I've been to Cannes before with my parents. I'll meet you at Volupte, 32 Rue Hoche." She promptly Disapparated.

Viktor sighed and got back into the car. "We'll meet her there," he said without further explanation.

xXx

Viktor found Hermione a few hours later sitting at an outdoor table in front of a café. The remains of her lunch were in front of her and she was sipping a cup of tea as he approached. He sat across from her. "I am sorry. I did not realize flying in the car would make you sick."

She shrugged. "I didn't know either. That's the first time I've ever been in a flying car."

"Todor and Pietra are back at the hotel. It's a Muggle hotel on a Muggle beach. No press stalking us."

"That sounds nice. They were rather relentless during the Cup."

"Always."

She smiled at him. "They wouldn't be if you weren't so good."

He reached across the table and took her hand, stroking his thumb along hers. "And if I was not dating you."

She shook her head. "No one cares about me in Europe. I rather like that actually."

"More people know who you are than you think," he said.

"Please, it was all about you versus the Vultures. A lot of drama in that."

He chuckled. "Yes, I suppose."

She smiled. "And you won."

He grinned at her. "Yes, I did." He brought her hand to his lips. "Shall we go back to the hotel?"

"All right. I'm done here."

They walked back to the hotel amidst the Muggles, none of whom gave them a second glance.

"Pietra seems nice," Hermione said.

"She is," Viktor agreed.

"Todor seemed…awkward."

"I think part of him worried that she would meet you and somehow know what happened."

"If he doesn't relax, she's going to think something's going on."

"He will settle down," Viktor said. "Ah, this is it."

Hermione looked at the massive hotel. "I thought you said this was a Muggle hotel."

"It is mostly Muggle, but owned by a half-blood, so there are accommodations for us too. There is also an entrance to Magical Cannes in the basement."

"Great," Hermione said.

"Yes, best of both worlds I think." He led her through the lobby to a bank of elevators. "We have the penthouse suite and Pietra and Todor are on the floor below."

"Penthouse suite?" Hermione said, raising her eyebrows at the costly choice.

"We deserve a nice week, yes?" he said as they took the elevator to the top floor.

"I think so," she said, smiling.

"I thought we could have some time to ourselves before dinner."

"Sure," Hermione said.

xXx

The suite was amazing. In addition to the king-sized bed and lavish bathroom, there was a large sitting area, and a private balcony that looked out over the Mediterranean Sea. Hermione was amused to see a large box of bon bons on the coffee table with a congratulatory note from the hotel staff. She went on to the balcony. "This is gorgeous," she said, looking at the view.

Viktor stepped behind her and slid his hands around her waist. "So are you."

She snorted. "Hardly. Clearly you want something."

"Mmm," he murmured against her neck. "What could I want?"

She leaned her head back on his shoulder and kissed him. He slid his hands up to cup her breasts. She broke the kiss and asked, "How private is this balcony?"

"Very, very private," he said as he slid his hands back down only to slide up again, this time under her shirt.

She turned in his arms. "Excellent."

xXx

On the second day, Viktor was surprised to find Hermione at the bar in the suite's lounge fixing Bloody Mary's first thing in the morning. She was barefoot and barelegged wearing a loose-fitting beach cover up.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Fixing drinks," she said without looking up from what she was doing.

"Why? Is it not a little early for that?"

"Normally, yes, but we're going to the beach this morning." She took a taste of the mixture and then poured herself a glass. "Want one?"

"No. What does going to the beach have to do with anything?" Viktor said.

"It's a topless beach."

"You do not like that?"

"It's not that I don't like it. It's just that I'm British."

He cocked his head at her. "What?"

"We can't be partially naked in public sober. It's not done."

"I thought you said you had been to Cannes before."

"I have. With my parents the summer after fifth year. We came for the sun because it helps with cursed scars."

"Were you topless then?" Viktor asked.

"Of course, that was the whole point of coming here."

"Were you drunk then?"

"Of course," Hermione said. "First time I ever drank with my parents."

He laughed. "You were only sixteen."

She finished her drink and poured herself another. "British! Public nudity!"

He shook his head and laughed again. "You do not have to sunbathe, you know."

"I do though," Hermione said more seriously. "The scar on my side still hasn't faded to white and the one under my shoulder blade is raw. Even under a glamour charm to hide them, it's good to have them in the sunshine. It'll draw away more of the dark magic."

He stroked her cheek with his finger tips and leaned in to kiss her softly on the lips. "I will order us some food or you will not be able to walk."

She smiled at him. "Thanks."

xXx

As the days went by, Todor seemed to decide that the best way to deal with his nervousness about being around Hermione was to pick at her without ever actually looking at her, especially if they were on the beach. He ribbed her about her Britishness, and often referred to her as Viktor's queen, but there was no malice in it, so she took it in her stride. Pietra, on the other hand, was charming. She and Hermione went shopping, they went sunbathing, and they enjoyed talking to each other. Conversation centered mostly on books, art, and Quidditch with the occasional foray into politics, but Viktor always steered away from that subject for fear that they would get into the war and upset Hermione, but they managed to avoid that pitfall.

xXx

Pietra went shopping and came back with magazines and newspapers, including _The Daily Prophet_ and _Witch Weekly._

"I have beach reading for tomorrow," she said as she joined the others for lunch. They were having room service in the penthouse.

"Something suitably mindless, I suppose," Todor said.

"I should say, look at this." She tossed them on the table. _Witch Weekly_ was on top and featured a photo of Hermione kissing Viktor as confetti rained over them. She had her fingers in his hair and her legs wrapped around him. The headline was 'Granger's Bulgarian Bon Bon Wins Big at European Cup.' _The Daily Prophet_ was more balanced with their coverage, discussing the entire team and featuring a lot of photos, but the same one that appeared on the cover of _Witch Weekly_ was also in the _Prophet_ albeit smaller, black and white, and in the lower right corner of the spread.

Hermione stared at the image wondering what had possessed her to wrap her legs around him but it was just a natural reaction to the force of him picking her up and spinning her around. She sighed and tossed the magazine aside.

"You're not happy with the photo?" Pietra asked.

"It's not that. It's a great photo, but it's not a moment everyone needs to see."

"I understand how that would be tiresome," Todor said. "Although Viktor has been dealing with this sort of thing since he was seventeen."

"Hermione has been dealing with unwanted publicity since she was fifteen," Viktor said.

Hermione shrugged. "Oh well, it is what it is. What time did you want to go down to the beach?" She knew she had to be blasé about it because it wasn't going to change. The Puddlemere United fans had embraced Viktor as the Bulgarian Bon Bon. During tense moments in games, the fans would chant 'bon bon, bon bon' over and over. When they first started, he thought they were making fun of him, that they weren't accepting him, because he wasn't British, but as the season went on, it became obvious that the fans thought his performance was as sweet as candy, and they loved their Bulgarian Bon Bon.

xXx

Hermione had been worried that they'd have to spend all their time in France with Todor and Pietra, but it didn't work out that way. Each couple had plenty of time to themselves and she and Viktor were able to get back to where they were before she'd lost the baby. By the time they left Cannes, Hermione felt like her world was starting to right itself, and she was fluent in Bulgarian since most of the conversations during the week were in Bulgarian.

When they arrived back in England, a letter from the Department of Mysteries was waiting for her informing her that she had permission to start the testing phase of her Apparition project. Viktor came into the kitchen at her triumphant cry.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I got approval to test my project."

"Fantastic!" he said, giving her a big hug and spinning her around. This time when she wrapped her legs around him there was no press to take a picture and no crowd to stop them from taking it further.

xXx

Viktor had the next two weeks off. He spent his time playing magical golf with his teammates during the day and he and Hermione would go out with them for dinner or to house parties in the evenings. Magical golf was much more dangerous than regular golf, but Viktor was with other talented wizards, so Hermione didn't worry about him too much. She had her hands full at work. The first time she performed the practical magic to test her new model of Apparition the pain was searing. She could do the magic, and the initial test went well, but the personal cost was high. By the end of the day, she didn't have the strength to Apparate, so she took the Floo home. Stumbling out of the fireplace, she sank to her knees clutching her side. She was surprised and embarrassed to find Viktor in the parlor. He dropped the book he'd been reading and hurried to her side.

"Let me see," he said, as he helped her to her feet.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I'm fine."

"Let me see," he insisted and began unbuttoning her robes.

She didn't have the strength to resist him and grimaced when he cursed at the sight of the glowing scars.

"What have they done to you? Were you cursed?" There was a threatening protective edge to his voice.

"Yes," Hermione groaned. "Years ago. You know that. Please, I just need a drink and to sit down." She pulled the top of her robes closed.

Viktor helped her over to one of the chairs. "I'll draw you a bath, stay here." He pulled his wand and disappeared with a pop. He reappeared a moment later, gathered her in his arms and Apparated both of them to the upstairs bathroom. The tub was full of hot water and bubbles. He cast Deliquesco, and she was naked in his arms. He settled her slowly into the hot water, then summoned whiskey and a glass from downstairs and poured her a healthy measure.

"How often does this happen?" he asked as he handed her the drink.

Hermione took a sip before she answered. "Not that often. Mostly I do research. Practical magic is only a small percentage of what I do."

"I don't understand. I've seen you do very powerful magic without a problem."

"Brand new spells are different. You have to weave the underlying magic as you cast it the first time, which is much more difficult than casting an established spell."

Viktor seemed to consider that. "I don't like it. It's too hard on you. You should find a different job."

Hermione took another swallow of whiskey and didn't say anything.

He sighed in frustration and took a seat on the closed toilet lid.

She took another sip of whiskey. "Are you just going to sit there staring at me?"

"Maybe."

"I thought you were playing golf today."

"I was, but Oliver got bitten by a griffin, and we had to take him to St. Mungo's."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Is he okay?" 

"He is fine now, but no one felt like going back to finish the game."

"Understandable." She took another drink of whiskey, which was going down easier and easier, and closed her eyes again. "Did I tell you we're invited to a wedding in Ireland next week?"

"And they are only now sending out invitations?"

"No. I got it a while ago. It just slipped my mind."

"But we are going?"

"I can cancel if you like." Seamus and Lavender were getting married, she wasn't bothered if they went or not.

He shrugged. "No need. I like weddings, but speaking of scheduling, I got an owl from Todor and Pietra this morning," Viktor said.

"Oh?"

"Yes, in September, the Ministry is doing a show of Magenta Comstock's work and also the work of some of her best students. Pietra has been invited to bring a piece."

"That's fantastic."

"Apparently, Harry is going to be there."

"All three of us were invited." She swirled a finger through the bubbles.

"You knew?" Viktor asked.

"I didn't know Pietra was invited, but I did know about the event," Hermione clarified.

"Are you going?"

"I haven't decided. People will want photos. I don't know how I feel about having my picture taken with the two of them since that article came out."

Viktor made a non-committal noise. "What about tomorrow night? Will you come for the ceremony to celebrate the team winning the European Cup?"

"Of course," Hermione said, surprised that he felt he had to ask.

"But Ron and Harry are going to be there too, yes?"

"Ron maybe, but not Harry. He's still on his honeymoon. To be honest, I doubt Ron will come either, but even if he does, it doesn't matter. It's an important event for you. I wouldn't miss that."

He smiled at her and moved over to sit on the edge of the tub. "I appreciate that. You do not think people will ask for photos?"

"Of Ron and me? No. They're going to want pictures of the team. Maybe of you and me." She finished her drink, reached over the side of the tub for the bottle, and poured another.

"Then why for the art show?" Viktor asked.

"Because that's a war related event. Harry is presenting a posthumous award to Magenta Comstock on behalf of the Ministry. There are going to be speeches. Whenever there are speeches people want our picture. I don't know why."

He gave her a sad smile and slipped a finger under a stray curl and tucked it behind her ear. "Yes, you do," he said quietly.

She sighed. "Yeah." She took another long drink of whiskey.

"So Todor and Pietra have asked to stay with me. I was hoping you would stay with me too, at least while they are here."

"Sure," she said.

He smiled at her. "Good."

xXx

A week later Hermione was crossing Seamus' parents' lush green lawn to the stairway that led down to the water. It was a lovely summer day with a light breeze blowing off the ocean, which was keeping it from being too hot. She was relieved to get out from under the tent and into the open. Viktor was stopped for an autograph, but she knew he'd catch up. It was possible she'd had too much to drink for this time of day, but it wasn't her fault it was a daytime wedding. She thought it was tacky to serve lunch instead of dinner, and having a dozen bridesmaids and groomsmen was ridiculous, and having all of them give a speech was excruciating to sit through. At least some things never changed. Lavender was just as repugnant as always. Her wedding dress was so ornate she looked like the wedding cake. Hermione snorted and made her way carefully down the wooden stairs to the water. It wouldn't do to trip and she was none too steady on her feet at the moment. At least she hadn't been seated across from Ron at lunch so there was no need to listen to his latest date prattle on about whatever rubbish she did. She made her way to the end of the pier and leaned on the railing to stare out at the water. She was exhausted. She'd been testing her plan for map-based Apparition all week and despite the fact that she and Thomas and four other Unspeakables could do it, the others could not. The department pulled the plug, citing that the process was simply too dangerous to be released to the general public, so she was back to square one. She sighed and closed her eyes. The Apparition problem vexed her. There had to be a better way to do it.

xXx

Harry poured himself another cup of punch and looked around the lawn. Seamus's parents' house had such beautiful green grass it wasn't hard to see why Ireland was called the Emerald Isle. He sipped his punch, enjoying the summer breeze, and looked over at Ginny laughing with Fred and George. Trouble, he thought, the whole lot of them, which made him smile. He still couldn't believe his luck at having such a fabulous witch for a wife.

He noticed Ron's date was standing talking with Hannah Abbott, but he couldn't remember her name? Cindy, Sally, something, whatever. It didn't matter. He'd probably never see her again. Actually, he hadn't seen Ron for a while. He looked over the lawn. It was usually pretty easy to spot Ron, since he generally stood a head or more above most of the crowd. Harry didn't see him, so he walked down to where the tent was set up. There was still a crowd congratulating Seamus and Lavender on their nuptials, but Ron wasn't among them.

Past the tent was a wooden walkway leading down to the dock where Seamus' father kept his boat. Ron was leaning against the railing, staring out at sea. Harry joined him at the rail and saw that it wasn't the ocean that had captured Ron's attention. Hermione stood at the end of the pier, smoking a cigarette and staring off at the horizon.

Ron acknowledged Harry's presence by saying, "She smokes now?"

Harry shrugged. "I guess."

"Did you ever think when we were kids that you would see Hermione Granger standing on a pier drunk and smoking a fag?"

"What makes you think she's drunk?"

Ron scowled. "I watched her walk down there if you could call it walking."

"Have you talked to her?" Harry asked.

"Only to say hello when she and Viktor arrived. I hate that slimy Bulgarian git. I can't believe he's got her smoking."

"I don't know that the smoking is his doing. Viktor doesn't smoke."

Ron glared at him.

"Or maybe he does," Harry said, backpedaling. "And I've just never seen him do it."

As if on cue, Viktor appeared at the top of the stairs leading down to the pier. If he saw Ron and Harry, he didn't acknowledge them. He had two glasses of wine in his hands as he walked toward Hermione.

xXx

Hermione watched as a flock of seagulls landed on the water in front of her.

"I brought you wine," Viktor said as he walked up and joined her at the rail. He handed her a glass.

She took a long drink. "You're a god among men, anyone ever tell you that?"

"Only when I am on a broom," he said with a smile. "Or in the bedroom."

She chuckled and leaned against him. He draped his arm over her shoulders.

xXx

At the top of the stairs, Ron shook his head angrily. "Doesn't he realize she's had enough?" 

"Why do you do this to yourself?" Harry asked. "There's a pretty girl over there waiting for you."

Ron shook his head. "I don't know why I brought her. She's intolerable."

"More intolerable than standing here glaring at Viktor and Hermione?"

Ron turned his gaze back to them. "Yes."

Harry sighed and leaned against the railing facing the party instead of the pier. He hoped Ginny would see him and come rescue him and insist that Ron go with them.

"Percy says she's always at the Ministry."

"Yeah?"

"He says she seems more like herself there. She doesn't wear her hair straight and up in that stupid bun, and she's always working."

"That does sound like our Hermione," Harry said wistfully.

"Right," Ron grumbled, pointing down the pier. "So, who the hell is that?"

Harry turned around to see Hermione finish her glass of wine and light another cigarette. "I don't know, mate."

"I hate this," Ron said.

"I know." Harry sympathized but there didn't seem like much anyone could do about it. Hermione was a grown woman; she could do whatever she wanted. They were all grown now. It was hard to imagine, that after everything they'd been through, this was how things had turned out. No wonder Ron had such a hard time accepting it. Harry couldn't believe it himself. "You should talk to her," he said.

Ron shook his head. "I can't."

"Why?"

"I just can't."

Harry put his hand on Ron's shoulder.

"How am I ever going to set this right?" Ron asked, his voice cracking.

Harry shook his head. "I don't know, but it would be great if you could."

Just then, a man walked to the top of the stairs and shouted that there was an owl for Viktor. Harry could see Viktor say something to Hermione and she made a gesture for him to go. He gave her a quick kiss before hurrying up the stairs and following the messenger. Ron looked at Harry.

"Go. No time like the present."

Ron hurried down the stairs toward Hermione. Harry glanced after him for a moment and then went back to the party. He wished Ron the best of luck, but he couldn't bear to watch.

xXx

Shortly after Viktor left, Hermione felt Ron approach. "Hello, Ron," she said without turning around.

"Hermione," Ron said.

She lit another fag. "What brings you out to the pier?" She caught herself slurring ever so slightly.

"I saw you from up top. You smoke now?"

She turned around and glared at him. "You came all the way down here to complain about my smoking?"

"It doesn't seem like you."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Really?" She took a deep drag on the cigarette.

"I'm just saying." He shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets.

She blew out a long stream of smoke. _What's he on about now? What's he want from me?_ "I can never win with you, can I?"

"How's that?" Ron said.

"You're a bore, Hermione. Lighten up, Hermione. Why do you have to be such a drag, Hermione?" She mimicked his accent perfectly. She could tell by the look on his face that it stung.

His mouth dropped open as if he were going to say something.

She stared at him for a moment, waiting for the comeback. When there wasn't one, she pushed past him to leave. He grabbed her arm and the touch of his skin against hers shot through her like lightening. It was the first time he'd touched her since the breakup and the audacity of it filled her with fury.

"Let go, Ron," she growled and the air around them crackled with electricity. "Or you'll find I have far worse to throw at you than a few canaries."

He dropped her arm and stepped back, visibly shaken. She stormed up the stairs in a palpable fury.

xXx

Ron's anger drowned in the onslaught of Hermione's. He watched her storm off and felt weak and shaken. He leaned against the railing to catch his breath. At least she was still angry, she wasn't indifferent, which meant she still cared. Despite her obvious anger, he knew she felt the charge when they touched. He could see it in her eyes. The bond between them pulsed hard for a moment. He ached to touch her again. He wasn't sure how, and he didn't know when, but he was going to get her back. They were meant to be together; he knew that. How he was going to make that happen was just a matter of strategy. He was good at strategy. He just needed a plan.

xXx

Viktor was coming back across the lawn toward the pier when Hermione reached the top of the stairs. She didn't ask him, didn't even slow down, she just grabbed his arm and Disapparated them both back to London. It was a dangerous move to side-along, more dangerous without warning the other person, extremely dangerous drunk, but she took it in her stride without so much as a misstep. If there was one thing she could do backwards and forwards, in any state, at any time, it was Apparition. Viktor was wide-eyed and pale when they reappeared in her parlor.

"Sorry," Hermione mumbled. "I just couldn't be there anymore."

He rubbed a hand across his mouth but didn't say anything.


	12. A Complicated Witch

The rest of the summer went by quickly. Hermione was busy at work, spending long hours revamping her Apparition project, but she'd also started a second project related to Quidditch. She was working on a cushioning charm that would cover the bottom of the pitch for the length of the game. The trick was for it to be big enough to cover the entire pitch and yet not so thick as to interfere with play. Trickier still, it had to be simple enough to cast that a couple of stadium employees could do it. It was a complex magical problem, but one that would theoretically prevent a lot of injuries if she could make it work. Of course, she couldn't mention it to Viktor, which was frustrating, because she would've liked his input.

As the art show approached, Todor and Pietra came to England to stay with Viktor. Hermione was still at work when they arrived. Viktor got them settled into the guest room and then Pietra announced that she was going to do some shopping. Viktor and Todor opted to stay at the flat. Shortly after Pietra left, Hermione let herself in. On days she stayed with Viktor she just walked the short distance to his flat from the Ministry. She could hear Viktor and Todor deep in a discussion about politics. She slipped down the hall to Viktor's room to get changed out of the traditional robes she wore to work. As she was walking back into the parlor she heard Viktor say, "That is bollocks and you know it."

"I am just saying the British should have acted sooner," Todor said. "Why was he not hunted down the first time?"

"They thought he was dead," Hermione said, surprising them both as she stepped into the parlor.

Todor raised his eyebrows. "They thought he was dead?" He looked at Viktor. "Really? Such a dangerous wizard and no one bothered to confirm it?"

Hermione's jaw clenched. "Avada Kedavra backfired. Harry lived. There was no way anyone at the time could have known Voldemort wasn't dead."

"But they did not check," Todor said derisively. "Lazy and stupid and the world suffered for it."

"Hindsight is always twenty-twenty, isn't it?" Hermione said.

"It is not hindsight," Todor said angrily. "It is experience. Is it not just like the British to run roughshod over everyone else and then fail at a critical moment?"

"Todor, shut up," Viktor growled.

"Oh, really?" Hermione said, the air crackling around her.

"Yes," Todor said, ignoring Viktor. "Your empire has gone soft in its shrinkage. Your education is soft, your power is soft. I doubt any of you, with maybe the exception of Harry Potter, could duel your way out of a paper bag."

Hermione slipped her wand from her pocket. "Try me."

"Please," Todor said derisively. "Do not draw your wand at me little queen. It will not end well for you."

Hermione's wand was up in a flash. There was a small popping sound and Todor disappeared.

"What did you do to him?" Viktor cried. "Where is he?"

Hermione held out her hand and a small white mouse flew into it. She held him up by his tail. "Here he is?" she said.

"You transfigured him?" Viktor said, alarmed.

"I forced him into his Animagus form, actually. How unsurprising that he's a rodent."

"I did not know that was possible. I do not think he even knows how to transform into his Animagus."

Hermione shrugged. She dropped Todor into an empty glass that was sitting on the kitchen counter.

"Come on," Viktor said. "You have made your point. Put him back."

"I don't think so," she said, still irritated. "Maybe later."

"Hermione!" Viktor said, but she Disapparated. "Shit," he muttered. He looked into the glass where Todor was pawing the smooth sides. "You are an idiot."

Todor squeaked in response.

Hermione reappeared less than an hour later just as Pietra was coming in through the Floo." Hermione plucked Todor from the glass by his tail and held him up for Pietra to see. "Do you want him back the way he was? Because I'm happy to leave him like this. He might be less trouble."

Pietra's eyes went wide. "Possibly true, but I still think I prefer him the other way."

"Suit yourself," Hermione said nonchalantly. She tossed Todor on the sofa and reversed the spell. He reappeared in human form. He ran his hands over himself, staring at Hermione as he did so. "Who are you?" he gasped.

"Thoroughly British," Hermione said, glaring at him.

Pietra turned to Todor. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," Todor said innocently. "We were talking about the war and she took offense."

"Oh, Todor!" Pietra said angrily.

"I am sorry," Todor said, but he said it to Pietra not to Hermione, who rolled her eyes and went out on to Viktor's balcony for a smoke.

"Don't apologize to me," Pietra said. "I think you better apologize to her."

Viktor glared his agreement.

Todor frowned but got up and went outside closing the door behind him. "I am sorry," he said to Hermione's back. "I know you did a lot in the war. I was not referring to you, but to your Ministry."

Hermione let out a soft snort. "I know they weren't perfect, but I didn't see any other countries sending wizards to help. Did Bulgaria send a big contingent that I'm unaware of? Last I checked, all you lot sent were Death Eaters."

Todor blushed. "Yes, well, that was unfortunate."

"Unfortunate, is that what it was?" she said angrily.

"I am an ass. And I talk too much. I am sorry I offended you. That was not my intention."

Hermione sighed. "When you've fought every day to stay alive, when you've been a pawn in a bigger destiny, when people died around you, it's difficult not to take criticism personally."

"I am sure that is true," Todor said contritely. "I really am sorry."

She nodded. "Thank you. I'm sorry I forced you into your Animagus."

He shrugged and lit a cigarette. "It was an interesting experience. I've never learned to do it and now that I know I would just be a mouse, I doubt I will bother."

Hermione chuckled.

"I had no idea you were that powerful," Todor added, blowing out a long stream of smoke.

She shook her head. "You're too impressed by power. I'm a human being, just like you. I'm valuable on that basis alone."

"Of course."

"It's not like I don't understand that mistakes were made," she said. "Some of the Ministry's mistakes cost me dearly. But it's easy to sit in judgement after the fact."

They stood there smoking for a while. Finally, Todor stubbed out the remains of his cigarette and said quietly, "Today makes me even sadder about the baby."

Hermione looked at him, shocked that he would mention it.

"I imagine she would have been extraordinary," he said.

"Yes," Hermione said, and lit another cigarette. "Probably so."

"I am going inside," he said. "I really am sorry for what I said."

She nodded and continued staring at the street below.

xXx

When Hermione finally went back inside, Pietra was saying, "So he's loaning us the penthouse suite for the week and we'd love it if you two could join us."

"Did you hear that?" Viktor asked Hermione.

"Something about a suite," she answered.

"A friend of mine, also a client," Pietra said, "is giving us the use of his penthouse suite in Saint-Tropez for the week when we leave here. Would you like to join us?"

Hermione considered. "I don't know that I could do a whole week, but I could probably manage a few days."

"It would be a nice break before I return to practice," Viktor said.

"Then it's settled," Todor said, heartily.

"Alright," Hermione said. "I'll make us a Portkey."

Pietra and Todor looked at each other and then at Viktor. He smiled. "It is alright. She does it all the time."

"Is that legal?" Pietra asked quietly.

"Yes," Hermione said.

"Just anyone can make a Portkey here?" Todor said in a scandalized voice. "Isn't that dangerous?"

"No, not just anyone is allowed to make Portkeys," Hermione answered testily. "But I am. If it makes you nervous—"

"No, no," Todor said, waving his hands. "If Viktor trusts you, I trust you."

xXx

The night of the presentation and gallery opening, Todor, Pietra, Viktor, and Hermione all walked to the Ministry together. Photographers were waiting to snap photos of everyone arriving so Hermione plastered on her standard smile for having her picture taken. Viktor opened the door for the other two and then ushered Hermione in with his hand at the small of her back. The main hall was already crowded when they arrived. Everyone was milling around waiting for the doors to open to the large conference room that had been converted into a temporary art gallery for the next month. As they strolled through the main hall past the chatty portraits of famous British witches and wizards, Todor suddenly stopped.

He turned to Hermione. "Is that you?"

She sighed. Of course, she knew the painting of her, Ron, and Harry was in the main hall. She passed it every day on her way into work, but for some reason it had escaped her that Todor and Pietra would likely see it and comment.

Viktor seemed to sense her discomfort and slipped his arm around her waist. "Of course it is," he said.

In the painting, all three of them had their wands drawn and they looked intensely heroic in a way that Hermione had never actually felt.

Todor approached the painting and stared at it more closely. "I knew you were friends with Harry Potter, but this would imply…"

The painting version of Hermione put her hands on her hips. "What? What would it imply?"

Todor smiled. "That you were much more involved in the war than I realized."

"Of course, I was involved," painting-Hermione said. "Instrumental some might say."

"Definitely," painting-Harry said.

"We'd be dead without her," painting-Ron added.

"I'm right about that," a voice said from behind them.

"Hello Ron," Hermione said as she turned to face him. Viktor, Todor, and Pietra turned too.

"How are you?" Ron said in a low intimate voice, as if she weren't standing there with three other people.

"Fine. You remember Viktor," she said tightly.

"I do," Ron said, sticking out his hand. Viktor shook it but his face turned hard.

"And this is Todor Golakov and Pietra Vanev. Pietra was a student of Magenta Comstock's. She has a painting in the show."

"Fantastic," Ron said. "That's impressive."

"Thank you," Pietra said. She tilted her head toward the painting. "I guess we know how you two know each other."

Ron softly snorted. He looked at Hermione. "Did you ever feel as cool as we look in that painting?"

"Not once," Hermione said.

"Yeah, me either."

The others chuckled.

"Is Harry here yet?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, but they took him and Ginny in already since he's speaking."

"Of course," Hermione said. She saw Todor and Pietra glance at each other. She would try to get Harry's attention later and introduce them. People loved to meet Harry.

"So, you've known Hermione a long time then?" Pietra said.

Ron smiled warmly. "Since we were eleven-years-old. We met on the train to school first year."

A small, blonde woman walked up carrying two glasses. She handed one to Ron. "They didn't have pumpkin juice, so I just brought you water."

"Thanks," Ron said. "Oh," he turned to the others, "This is Ivy. Ivy this is Todor and Pietra and Viktor and Hermione."

They all shook hands. Ivy was clearly impressed to be shaking hands with Viktor and Hermione. She turned back to Ron and mouthed 'wow' when she was done. He smiled at her.

"What do you do, Ivy?" Hermione asked.

"I make pastries at Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop," Ivy answered.

"I've had some of their pastries. Delicious," Hermione said.

Ivy smiled broadly. "Thanks."

A photographer approached and Hermione stepped closer to Viktor. He slipped his arm around her waist.

"Can I get a picture of the heroes with their painting?" the photographer asked.

"Not without Harry," Hermione answered quickly.

Ron looked at her. "Seriously? Come on."

Just then tones sounded indicating that everyone could come into the gallery.

"No time," Hermione said, and started for the door. Viktor kept pace with her. Todor and Pietra followed.

"Sorry mate," Ron said to the photographer.

Viktor leaned into her. "Are you alright?" he whispered in her ear.

"I'm fine," she said, but the rigid way she held herself indicated otherwise.

xXx

There was time to walk around the gallery before the ceremony started and Hermione was relieved when Ron and Ivy didn't join them to look at the paintings. Todor offered to get them all drinks at the bar. Hermione was never so happy to have a glass of wine. She was having a visceral response to Ron's presence. She was still very angry at him. She didn't want to be angry. She wanted to be indifferent. She didn't want it to matter anymore, but the idea of standing next to him in front of that painting, with him in all likelihood putting his arm around her, left her cold, and that bothered her more than the anger. He was Ron. Her Ron, or he used to be her Ron. The last couple of times she'd seen him, he'd seemed more like his old self, and yet, he'd said nothing about the end of their relationship. There was no acknowledgement, no apology. The last time she'd seen him all he did was whinge about her smoking. She had to wonder if he even remembered what happened that last night. To make matters worse, the bond between them pulsed tangibly, almost like it was getting stronger rather than weaker, which didn't make any sense at all to her. She just wanted to go home, but she sipped her wine and looked at the paintings instead.

When they reached Pietra's painting, Hermione was impressed. It was a large landscape of magical Sophia. The spell work was excellent. A breeze moved realistically through the street as people moved about their daily business. "It's beautiful," Hermione said.

"Thank you," Pietra said. "It's an early piece. My current work is a bit more sophisticated, but they wanted pieces that reflected work under Magenta, so they chose this one."

Todor kissed her cheek. "So talented."

Pietra smiled at him.

The tones chimed again and people began taking their seats. The ceremony was about to begin. Ron and Ivy were seated three rows ahead of Hermione and she found herself distracted while the Minister of Magic spoke of Magenta Comstock's significant contributions to magical culture. Ron was slouched a bit in his seat, and he had his arm casually across Ivy's shoulders. Hermione couldn't help wondering what had happened to the Amazonian goddess from the wedding. She supposed Ron was just playing the field and dating whoever came along. How nice for him that he could date whoever he wanted and still be referred to as a hero in the paper, but now that she was dating someone new, she was a fickle tart. If they were Muggles, she'd assume it was sexism, but there wasn't a lot of sexism in a world where witches were every bit as powerful as wizards, so she knew it was about blood status, although with the fall of Voldemort, no one would dream of saying so openly. Ron looked like he'd just gotten a haircut, probably because he knew there would be pictures taken at the event. He still had the beard and that looked freshly trimmed as well. She thought about all the times she'd cast the spells to cut his hair. She wondered who did that now. Ginny maybe. She doubted he did it himself. She scolded herself for thinking about Ron's hair and drew her attention back to the Minister's speech, but he was finished, and Harry was taking the podium.

Harry gave a moving speech about the importance of people like Magenta Comstock during the war and how significant their stands were in the face of overwhelming prejudice and violence. He said she gave people hope during those dark days. He presented a statuette to her daughter on behalf of the Ministry of Magic and everyone clapped. Hermione had heard it all before. They'd done dozens of events like this since the end of the war. She'd helped Harry write the first version of his speech, and he'd just modified it for different recipients over the years. Hermione knew symbolic gestures and recognition were important to people, but her preference would be to never attend another war related event. Still, she'd be damned if she wasn't going to show up for events she had every right to attend just because some trashy magazine liked to paint her as a trollop. She was a hero whether she felt like one or not, and she wouldn't have that taken away from her no matter how uncomfortable the attention made her feel. The ceremony concluded and Hermione returned her attention to the podium where the Minister of Magic was requesting her presence as well as Ron's. She sighed and Viktor squeezed her hand. "Go be a hero," he whispered in her ear.

She kissed his cheek and stood. She and Ron made their way to the front of the room where they stood with Harry and Magenta Comstock's daughter and the Minister of Magic and had their picture taken. Hermione made sure to keep Harry and the others between her and Ron. She knew she was being petty, but she didn't want to touch Ron, and she didn't want him touching her. If he couldn't do the decent thing and at least acknowledge what happened between them, then she didn't want him putting his arm around her for a photo like they were still friends.

xXx

There was a wine and cheese reception after the event and everyone continued milling around looking at the paintings. People kept approaching them to ask for photos. They always complied because they all understood that this was part of being who they were. Several times she caught Ron staring at her. His expression was hard to read. Eventually, Viktor brought Todor and Pietra over, and she introduced them to Harry and Ginny. They were clearly thrilled at the opportunity to meet Harry, and Hermione was glad she could make it happen for them. It was another hour before the crowd thinned out enough that they could leave.

As they walked back to Viktor's flat, Hermione could feel the weight of the event and seeing Ron starting to lift. Pietra and Todor kept up a steady chatter about the event, about meeting Harry, about Magenta Comstock, and about questions Pietra got about her painting. It was all very festive. Viktor had his arm around Hermione's shoulders. He knew the night had been draining for her and that she probably wished that Todor and Pietra weren't going back to the flat with them, so when they reached the flat, he announced that he was exhausted and needed to turn in early if they were going to Saint-Tropez the next day. Hermione agreed and the two of them went to bed.

When Viktor closed the door behind them he heard Hermione utter "Impreturb."

He arched an eyebrow at her. "You want me to make you scream?"

She gave him a weary smile and nodded.

"I think I can manage that," he said, pulling his shirt over his head and reaching for her.

For the first time since she lost the baby, Viktor was playful in bed, teasing her, winding her up, and leaving her on the edge, until she was panting and squirming beneath his ministrations. He did in fact make her scream, leaving her body sated and her mind blissfully empty. She fell asleep sweaty, sticky, and exhausted.

xXx

The next morning, Hermione made the Portkey to Saint-Tropez and the four of them went on to the roof of Viktor's building to activate it. Hermione set it to go in one minute and they all took hold of an old umbrella. Seconds later she felt the familiar pull behind her navel and they were off.

The penthouse suite in the big historic hotel in Saint-Tropez turned out to be amazing. The view of the Mediterranean was spectacular and the accommodations were incredible. Each couple had their own bedroom off of a central lounge and kitchen combination with a large balcony overlooking the sea. It felt more like a large flat than a hotel room. The first day was spent doing some shopping and otherwise settling in for the week. That night they grilled steaks for dinner and sat out on the balcony drinking wine. They talked about nothing of consequence mostly because both Todor and Hermione were unusually quiet. Hermione turned in early, still tired and sore from the last few weeks of exceptionally long days at the Department of Mysteries. Todor kept nodding off in his chair until finally Pietra sent him to bed. When Todor left, Viktor poured himself another glass of wine and sat back down.

"Hermione seems really tired," Pietra said.

Viktor nodded. "She has had some very long days at work lately."

"What does she do again?" Pietra asked.

"Research and development."

"Yes, but what does that mean?" Pietra said.

Viktor looked at her and sighed. "Honestly, I do not know exactly. I know she has a lot of control over her schedule and her projects. I know she has a lot of leeway to do things like make Portkeys. And I know that sometimes her work takes a terrible physical toll, but she does it anyway."

Pietra's brow wrinkled with concern. "That doesn't sound good."

"It is not, but what can I do? She keeps her own council concerning these things."

"That must be difficult for you," Pietra said sympathetically.

"It can be. I wish she would find a different job."

They sat sipping their wine for a while and watching the sunlight fade along the water.

"You two seem close," Pietra said.

"Yes," Viktor said. "We have known each other a long time."

Pietra arched an eyebrow at him. "Are you in love Viktor?"

He grunted at her. "Love. That is a little word that means too many things."

"You know what I mean," Pietra said. "Are you thinking about the future?"

He shrugged. "Planning for the future did not work for me before. I think it is best to just take things as they come."

"Oh please," she said.

"What about you then?" Viktor said, turning the tables. "You are back with Todor. Are you thinking about the future?"

She sighed. "Touché."

He chuckled, but then got quiet again. "She is a complicated witch."

"Too complicated?"

He shook his head. "I do not know."

"She certainly has a hot temper."

"Not really," Viktor said defensively. "But she does have buttons that should not be pushed."

"And Todor pushed one?" 

"Yes. I told him not to bring up the war around her."

"Ah," Pietra said. "The war."

"Yes," he said quietly.

"I suppose you read that article."

He huffed derisively. "Please, the press says a lot of garbage, especially that Skeeter woman. She made ridiculous claims about Harry, Hermione, and me when I was at Hogwarts."

"I'm sure," Pietra said. "But at the very least, she was involved with that ginger we met yesterday."

"Yes," Viktor said grimly.

"Did you see how he was staring at her?"

"Yes."

"That doesn't concern you?"

"No. He was unkind to her."

Pietra raised her eyebrows. "He must be very brave."

"I do not know the whole story," Viktor said. "I cannot see her going back to him though."

"I don't know, Viktor. There's a lot of history there."

"I know." He sighed. "But she and I have our own history."

"At least she seems mostly clean now," Pietra commented.

Viktor looked at her.

"I noticed that Todor is often awkward around her. I asked him about it. He told me that they smoked together in Amsterdam. You know how hard it is for an addict to be around other addicts. I'm surprised it doesn't bother her. Although, she clearly still drinks."

"She was never really an addict," Viktor said. "She smoked a few times that weekend but not before or since."

Pietra raised her eyebrows. "Oh. Still, I guess she reminds him."

"I guess." 

"Why is it never easy?"

"I do not know," Viktor replied. "But it never is."

xXx

The next morning, Hermione was up early making coffee. She was surprised when Todor came in from the hallway.

"I thought I was the only one awake," she said.

"No," Todor said. "I have been down to the docks. I found a fishing tour. We could all go."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think so." She found another cup and poured him some coffee.

"You do not like boats either?"

"I like boats fine. I just don't want to go fishing."

"You do not have to fish. You can sunbathe."

"I'd rather sunbathe on the beach."

"Me too," Pietra said, coming into the kitchen.

"So, neither of you want to go fishing?" Todor said with a mildly hurt expression on his face.

Pietra leaned over and kissed his cheek. "No, darling."

"Who is going fishing?" Viktor said, coming into the room scratching his head. Hermione smiled to see him all rumpled from sleep.

"I guess just you and me," Todor said with resignation.

"What time?" Viktor asked.

"We need to be there at nine," Todor said.

Viktor looked at the clock. "That soon?"

"Come on," Todor said. "Go get cleaned up. I will make breakfast."

Viktor grimaced. "Do us all a favor and just order it."

Pietra and Hermione laughed. Todor shrugged and picked up the magical menu for room service.

xXx

After breakfast, Todor and Viktor headed to the docks and Pietra and Hermione went down to the beach. Hermione still wasn't entirely comfortable with topless sunbathing, but it was a private beach and the hotel had an outdoor bar and attentive staff. She got settled in a chaise lounge. Pietra got out some magazines and started flipping through them, while Hermione pulled a book from the tote she'd brought down to the beach. A waiter came over and took their drink orders and was soon back with a Mai Tai for Pietra and a Zombie for Hermione. The drink was strong and Hermione was tired. She slipped off the sarong she was wearing and stretched out. The sun was so warm and the chaise was so comfortable, that she fell sound asleep.

xXx

Viktor could not have been more irritated with Todor. He couldn't remember the right dock, so by the time they got where they were supposed to be, the boat was gone.

When they got back to the hotel, the women were already on the beach, so they quickly changed and headed down. Viktor figured at least they could salvage the rest of their day. Todor was ahead of him as they walked the path down to the sand. Hermione's chaise lounge was closest to the path and Viktor heard Todor gasp and saw him lean over her.

"What happened here?" Todor said, reaching out his hand to Hermione's side.

"Don't," Viktor said, but it was too late.

Todor touched the thick pink scar that ran along Hermione's side, and she woke furious. She grabbed his hand, her eyes flashing.

"I'm sorry," Todor whispered, his eyes wide. "Please do not hurt me."

Pietra stirred next to her, and Hermione shoved Todor's hand away from her. She grabbed the sarong and wrapped it around her.

Missing what had just happened, Pietra yawned. "Why are you two back so soon?"

"We missed the boat," Viktor said.

"What?" Pietra said, opening her eyes.

"My fault," Todor said.

Pietra snorted. "Typical."

"I know," Todor said contritely.

"I'm going back inside," Hermione said.

Viktor followed a couple of paces behind her. He could feel the rage rolling off her. When they reached the hotel, he expected her to explode in a steady stream of invectives against Todor, but she remained silent and got in the shower instead. He thought to join her, but she'd locked the door. He sighed and went back into the lounge and got a beer out of the refrigerator. He could see Todor out on the balcony and joined him.

"Hey," Todor said, as Viktor stepped outside.

Viktor grunted a greeting at him and went to stand beside him at the railing.

"Pietra is taking a shower," Todor said.

"So is Hermione. What were you thinking?"

"I barely touched her," Todor said.

"You should not have touched her at all," Viktor said furiously, but kept his voice low. "You are lucky you still have a hand. If Pietra had not been right there, I shudder to think what would have happened."

"I was just so shocked to see those scars. The one on her side is so big? What happened to her?" Todor asked.

"I do not know. She does not talk about them."

"All this time you have been with her and she has not told you?"

Viktor shook his head. "No."

xXx

Hermione didn't emerge from their bedroom until late that night. Viktor respected her clear desire to be alone and stayed out of the room. He and Todor and Pietra were sitting around the fire pit after dinner having drinks on the balcony when Hermione finally made an appearance. He was surprised to see her in a bikini with a sarong wrapped around her waist. The outfit in and of itself wasn't that unusual given that Pietra was dressed in much the same way, as were women all over the hotel. The surprising part was that she hadn't bothered with the charm to cover the scars. She stepped out on the balcony, poured herself a martini from the pitcher on the side table next to Viktor and went to stand at the railing. She drank the martini without comment and no one said anything to her. The other three just kept glancing to Hermione and then back at each other. Pietra who hadn't seen them earlier was wide-eyed. Finally, when Hermione had finished her drink, she came back to the fire pit, poured herself another, and took a seat beside Viktor.

Todor and Pietra glanced at Viktor. Hermione sipped her drink.

Finally, Todor broke the silence. "What happened to you?"

Viktor's mouth dropped open in shock, but Hermione rested a cool hand on his knee. "It's alright." He looked at her and she gave him a sad smile.

"The one on my chest," she began, "happened fifth year…" She talked for the next half hour about battles, bad decisions, and heroic rescues. It was a tale of blood and loyalty, sacrifice and loss. When she was done, Pietra was crying. Todor just sat with his mouth open. Viktor sat silent beside her, his eyes glassy with unshed tears.

"I understand why the scars are there. I do not understand why the one on your side is so big. Should it not have shrunk more by now, like the one on your chest?" Todor asked, trying to wrap his head around everything she'd told them.

"It was casting the shield charm and holding it for so long. The curse left a gaping wound but funneling all the magic with a wound like that, let's just say I wouldn't recommend it." Hermione said.

"Does it still hurt?" Pietra asked. "It looks like it still hurts. So, does the one on your back."

Hermione shrugged. "They all hurt some. Cursed scars always do, but I've gotten used to it, like background noise." She stood. "I haven't eaten since breakfast. I'm going to go scrounge up something in the kitchen."

Viktor got up and said to Todor and Pietra, "I'm going to go scramble her some eggs. She only knows how to cook dishes that serve at least ten people." He went inside.

xXx

Hermione ate eggs and toast at the bar in the kitchen while Todor and Pietra remained outside quietly talking. Hermione looked at Viktor who had flicked his wand to clean up the kitchen. He was sweet. She sighed. "Viktor."

He turned around. "Yes."

"You might want to sleep in one of the extra bedrooms tonight."

His forehead wrinkled in confusion. "You are angry with me?"

"No, of course not, but…"

"But what?"

"I'm likely to have nightmares tonight…of the screaming, wand-in-hand variety," she said quietly. "It's best if I sequester myself in the room behind a muffling charm. I can take one of the other bedrooms if you prefer."

"You have had nightmares in bed with me before. I have always managed."

"Not that kind. I don't want to hurt you."

He frowned. "Did you ever hurt Ron?"

She blinked at him, startled at the question. He never brought up Ron. "No, but—"

"Then why would you hurt me?" Viktor asked gently.

"Because Ron belonged in the context of the dream. He was part of what happened. It was comforting to wake up and see him alive and well. I'm just worried I might mistake you…"

"For a Death Eater?"

She nodded and wiped a stray tear from her cheek. "Some of them were—"

"Eastern European," he finished for her.

She nodded again. "I just don't want to be asleep and half out of my mind with fear and accidentally hurt you."

He considered it for a moment. "No," he said. "You are formidable but you are my lover. We sleep together. I will take my chances. I can defend myself if necessary." She closed her eyes and he put his arms around her. "You are wound up, come let me unwind you." She pressed her forehead against his shoulder and he kissed the top of her head before leading her into the bedroom.

xXx

She wasn't wrong about the nightmares. At two o'clock in the morning she woke screaming Ron's name, Viktor rolled off the bed shouting "Lumos!"

Hermione was on her feet, wild-eyed and panting with her wand gripped tightly in one hand and the other pressed against the scar on her side.

Viktor called her name and she looked at him, glassy-eyed and unseeing. "It is Viktor, Hermione. I will not hurt you. Please do not hurt me."

She seemed to focus then and put her wand down on the nightstand. She trembled as Viktor crawled across the bed toward her. "You are alright," he said soothingly. She nodded but remained standing. He got out of bed and got their dressing gowns, settling hers across her shoulders. "Come," he said. She put her arms through the sleeves of the robe and followed him. "I will make you some tea," he said.

"I'd rather have whiskey if it's all the same to you," Hermione said. She held out her hand and a pack of cigarettes flew across the room. She set one between her lips with trembling hands and lit it with a snap as she crossed the room to go out on the balcony. Viktor brought her two fingers of whiskey neat.

She stood at the railing, looking out at the inky blackness of the sea in the moonlight. Viktor stood next to her and sipped his own drink. "What did you leave out of the story?" he asked.

She looked at him and then took a sip of her drink before saying, "I initially cast the shield charm, because when Ron and Harry got to me, a Death Eater cast a curse at me and Ron dove to intercept it. He saved my life, but it split his face open along his jaw. I could see the bone and there was so much blood. I cast the spell to protect Ron and Harry was able to get behind it and keep fighting until the Aurors arrived. Ron came to just before they got there and was helping Harry. When I finally passed out and dropped the shield, Ron grabbed me and Disapparated, but in his condition the outlay of magic to get us both to St. Mungos cost him dearly. He was in and out of consciousness for a few days and then fell into a coma for weeks. It took ages for his magic to be fully restored and his mind to clear."

"Ah," Viktor said.

"The curse did a lot of damage to him. It was a long and painful recovery."

"For both of you."

"Yes. For both of us. I was on blood-replenishing potion for a long time."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," he said, putting his arm around her.

"Me too." She leaned forward and rested her elbows on the railing and put her face in her hands. "I'm just so exhausted."

Viktor took her arm. "Come sit down." He led her over to the fire pit and they sat down on the sofa. He lay back against the pillows and she snuggled against him. "You are working too much."

She let out a soft snort. "What are you talking about? We're on vacation."

"After weeks of sixteen-hour days. And you're planning to leave early."

"I have two projects going right now," Hermione protested. "I need to get back to them."

"I thought you told me Unspeakables only work one project at a time."

"Usually, yes," she said. "But one of my projects is long-term, it'll likely be another year or two before it's finished. The other is much simpler. A few months and it should be done."

"And so, they said you could not take the whole week?" Viktor asked pointedly.

"No. It doesn't work like that. I set my own schedule," she said quietly.

"Ah, so you can stay and get some real rest."

She sighed.

"You need to learn to pace yourself and take breaks," Viktor said. "Or you will burn out. I have seen this happen to athletes. They over train, over party, and spend too much time with teammates. It is not healthy and eventually it affects their game. This can happen to you as well. You push too hard."

Hermione knew he was right. She did push too hard. She always had, but when she was in school Ron and Harry were there to pull her away and make her take breaks. Ever since she found out she was a witch and that there was a whole world where she belonged but never knew about, she'd felt like she was playing catchup. She still felt that way, even though she knew it wasn't true anymore. "Fine. I'll stay."

He smiled and hugged her to him. "Good. Want to go back to bed?"

"If it's all the same to you, I'd like to sit out here and look at the stars for a while."

Viktor kissed the top of her head. "That sounds good."


	13. Very Accommodating

Pietra awoke early the next morning. The sun was just beginning to rise, so she was surprised to see that Todor was not in bed. She slipped on her dressing gown and went out into the shared lounge. He had both doors leading on to the deck open and had his easel set up in front of them.

"You're up early," she said.

He held a finger to his lips and pointed with this paint brush to the balcony where she could see Viktor and Hermione asleep on the sofa.

"What are they doing sleeping out there?" she whispered.

Todor shrugged. "I did not want to waste the light. A front is coming in." he whispered back. "There is coffee made."

She nodded and went to get a cup. While she was contemplating what to do for breakfast, a light rain began to fall. She saw Hermione sit up followed by Viktor. A moment later, they both came into the lounge yawning.

"I cannot believe we fell asleep out there," Viktor said.

"It was a nice night," Hermione said.

Viktor stretched and looked at Todor's painting. It was the view from the balcony of the clouds moving over the Mediterranean. "Very nice."

Hermione poured them both a cup of coffee and handed one to Viktor.

"Thank you," he said.

"The wind is kicking up." Hermione wrapped her hands around the coffee mug to warm them.

"I will close the doors in a minute," Todor said. "I am almost done."

"Good," Viktor said. "I will order breakfast."

While Viktor put in a breakfast order, Hermione asked Todor and Pietra if they had any plans for the day since it was raining.

"I would like to see the Musee de l'Annonciade," Todor said.

Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise. "I didn't realize you were interested in Muggle art."

"I am interested in all art," Todor said. "Besides, Muggles can be quite clever in their technique since they lack Magic."

Hermione smiled. "Agreed. I'd like to go too."

"Your hair is naturally curly?" Pietra observed out of the blue.

"Yes," Hermione said. "Why?"

"It's always been straightened when I've seen it before," Pietra said.

"Viktor prefers it straight," Hermione said.

"Really?" Pietra said, staring at Viktor who was still ordering from the magical menu.

Hermione shrugged. "It's easier to manage when it's straight anyway."

"It looks nice both ways," Pietra said.

"Thanks," Hermione said.

Viktor set down the menu. "I am getting in the shower." He took Hermione's hand. "You should come too." She blushed but followed him.

When she closed the door, Viktor stepped behind her, cast Impreturb, and moved her hair, kissing the back of her neck. He reached around and tugged at the bow in the belt that closed her dressing gown.

"Viktor," she whispered.

"Shhh," he said and slipped the dressing gown from her shoulders letting it pool at her feet. He kissed across her shoulders.

It wasn't like him to stay behind her since they'd been attacked in Bulgaria. She assumed it had to do with the scar under her shoulder blade. He knew it was there even if she'd glamoured over it as she had this morning. He felt responsible no matter how many times she might say otherwise. He cupped her breasts and she pressed back against him. He surprised her by nuzzling her hair, which wasn't like him at all. "Viktor, what's—?"

"Don't talk," he said quietly and slipped a hand between her legs. She relaxed into his touch but was bothered by being shushed twice. She pressed her palms to the back of the door as he entered her. She tried to let her mind go blank to just let her body take over, but Viktor wasn't himself, and it nagged at the back of her mind. He seemed tense in a weird way that she couldn't quite place. He was more hurried than usual, less considerate, and he'd never insisted on silence before. In fact, if asked, Hermione would've said that communication was one of the best things about their relationship. Nothing about his behavior seemed right.

He finished without taking her with him and then stood there with his chest against her back and his head on her shoulder breathing hard. "I am sorry," he said quietly.

"What's going on with you?" she asked without turning around.

He shook his head. "Nothing. I just…come, we will take a shower. I will make it up to you."

She turned and picked up her dressing gown, pulling it on as she stood. "I don't think so."

"Hermione," he said, but she ignored him and went into the bathroom locking the door behind her with a charm. As she showered, she thought about what had just happened and still couldn't make sense of it. Perhaps, he was just in a weird mood. She opted not to make a big deal of it. She didn't bother straightening her hair, and instead put it in a long braid down her back.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, Viktor sat naked on the side of the bed staring at his hands. He didn't look up when she came in so she ignored him and got dressed. Without saying anything, he went into the bathroom. She sighed and went back out into the lounge. There was a knock on the door and she let in the room service waiter and chatted with him for a minute as he set the table. When he left, Hermione knocked on Todor and Pietra's door to let them know breakfast was served and then went back into her room to find Viktor already out of the shower and getting dressed.

"Breakfast is here," she said.

"I will be out in a minute," he said without looking at her.

She sighed and went back into the lounge and sat down at the table. Pietra and Todor joined her a moment later followed by Viktor.

"The museum opens at ten," Pietra was saying to Todor. "But if we go right after breakfast we can stop at that café you like and have a latte beforehand."

"That sounds good to me," Todor said.

"Fine with me," Hermione added.

"I am not going to go," Viktor said.

"No?" Todor said. "Why not?"

Viktor cleared his throat. "My back is sore from sleeping outside. I will stay here and stretch it out, maybe take a nap. I did not sleep that well."

Hermione didn't say anything but she knew he was lying. His back was fine a little while ago, and he'd slept soundly all night or he would've woken her to go back inside.

"Suit yourself," Todor said, but he gave a concerned look to Pietra who returned it with one of her own.

xXx

By the time they'd finished at the art museum, the rain had stopped and the sun was shining, so they decided to go back to the hotel and enjoy the beach. All three of them Apparated separately to the balcony and then went inside. Viktor wasn't in the lounge.

"Perhaps he went for a run," Todor said.

"I'm going to go get changed," Hermione said and went into their bedroom. Viktor was sprawled out on top of their bed. A half empty vodka bottle and a glass were on the nightstand. Hermione grabbed his foot and shook it. 

He grumbled something and made a weak attempt to pull his foot away. Since he was on his back, Hermione pulled her wand and cast a spell to roll him over, so he wouldn't choke if he vomited. She changed into a swimsuit and sarong and picked up the vodka bottle and glass before going back into the lounge.

Todor was in swim trunks putting a sketchpad in a tote bag when Hermione walked in. He looked at the bottle in her hand and raised his eyebrows.

"He's passed out drunk," Hermione said.

Pietra came into the room as she said it and she and Todor exchanged looks again.

"All right, what?" Hermione said, setting the bottle and glass on the counter. When they didn't say anything, she put her hands on her hips and glared at them. "Clearly, you both know something I don't. Care to enlighten me?"

"Is bad day for Viktor," Todor ventured in English.

"That part is obvious," Hermione said with irritation. "Why is it a bad day?"

"It's the anniversary of Nikolina's death," Pietra said quietly. "I'm sorry. I assumed you knew."

Hermione frowned. "No. He didn't say anything about it."

Todor and Pietra exchanged another look and Hermione fought the urge to tell them to stop it.

"I should check on him," Todor said.

"He's fine," Hermione said sharply. "I put him on his stomach. He just needs to sleep it off."

Todor looked at Pietra again.

Hermione had had enough. "I'm going for a walk." She went out onto the balcony and promptly Disapparated.

xXx

The sun was setting by the time Hermione returned. Todor and Pietra were sitting on the balcony, so Hermione joined them and sat in one of the chairs in front of the fire pit. On impulse she waved her hand and a huge flame shot up from the grate. "Sorry," she mumbled and made a closing gesture with her thumb and index finger and the fire shrank to just a warm glow. She said something under her breath and the heat dissipated leaving only the light to enjoy in the warm night.

Todor raised his eyebrows. "You are very good with fire spells."

"Thanks," Hermione said without really caring. She snapped her fingers and a cigarette appeared. She snapped again and the end was lit.

"I almost never see you pull your wand," Todor said.

"Why bother for simple spells?" Hermione said.

"Most people don't find elementals all that simple," Todor said.

"It's not as though I'm actually doing them wandlessly. My wand is in my pocket."

"That's how everyone does wandless magic," Pietra said.

"Wait," Todor said, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "Are you saying you can cast spells without a wand at all."

Hermione shrugged. "Some spells." She took a long drag on her cigarette.

"Like what?"

"Accio, for one," she said dryly, knowing many witches and wizards could do that.  
"Ah, of course," Todor said, an excited gleam appearing in his eye. "What about—?"

"Look," Hermione said crossly, "if you want a list, we'll be here all night."

Pietra put a hand on his arm. "Todor, not now."

"Oh," Todor said. "Of course. We were going to go out to dinner. Care to join us?"

"No, thanks. I'm not that hungry." She took another long drag on her cigarette.

Pietra stood and reached out a hand to Todor. "We should get dressed if we want to make our reservation."

"Right," Todor said and followed her inside.

After they'd been gone an hour, Hermione went into the kitchen and spread some brie on a slice of French bread and took some grapes from a fruit basket the hotel had provided. She poured herself a glass of white wine and got a book from the bedroom where Viktor was still passed out. She left a bottle of hangover potion on the nightstand for him and took her dinner back out on to the balcony.

There were candles on the balcony so she lit them to read by and settled in. She was on her second glass of wine and third cigarette when Viktor came outside. He sat down in one of the chairs opposite the sofa where she was sitting.

"Thank you for the potion," he said.

"You're welcome," she replied without looking up from her book.

"You are angry," he said. "I am sorry I got drunk."

"I'm not angry that you got drunk," Hermione said, closing the book. "Everyone has bad days. I'm angry that you couldn't be bothered to mention that today was a bad day for you."

"It is difficult to speak of these things," Viktor said quietly.

"We've been through a lot of things that are difficult to talk about, but we manage." She glared at him.

"We went through those things together," he said. "This was in the past. It is not like you speak of your past."

"I spent yesterday evening being very honest about my past."

"I know," he said, conceding. "I should have said something."

"That would have been helpful," Hermione said. "Is that what this morning was about?"

All the color drained from his face.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice? Did she have curly hair or something? Is that what Pietra was on about this morning? Is that why you always want mine straight? Do I look like her? Is that it?"

He looked away from her and pushed his fingers back through his hair.

"Whatever." She stood and started to go in when Viktor grabbed her hand.

"It was the reverse."

She looked down at him with undisguised irritation. "What?"

"I was initially drawn to Nikolina because she reminded me of you."

Hermione didn't say anything, but she didn't pull her hand away either.

"I saw her at a party. She was friends with Boyka, who was also friends with Pietra, and we were at a party at Boyka's flat. When I saw Nikolina she looked so much like you that I introduced myself. She turned out to be a lot like you in other ways as well. She was smart and headstrong. She fought for justice and equality. You are more serious, like me, but Nikolina had a silly side. She was quick to laugh and slow to anger. She was not as powerful as you, but she was good with magic, and she had strong convictions. Unfortunately, she did not have Harry at her side, only me. And when she really needed me, I was not there." A tear slipped down his cheek.

Hermione wiped the tear away with her thumb. "No one can save everyone. Not even Harry."

"At least we would have died together," Viktor said.

"But then I would have died alone," Hermione said softly.

He looked up at her. "What?"

She ran her fingers through his hair and sighed. "You came back into my life with rather spectacular timing." They stared at each other for a long moment before he tugged her into his lap and hugged her tight. She hugged him back, and they held each other for a long time. When they finally parted, Viktor said, "I am very sorry about this morning."

She sighed and cupped his face in her hand. "I understand loss and longing, but don't shut me out, and don't silence me. Tell me what you need. I can help if I know what's going on."

He shook his head. "I will not do that again. It was stupid and desperate and unfair to you."

She kissed him gently on the lips. "You still want to make it up to me?"

He gave her a slow smile and slipped his arms under her and stood. "Yes," he said and carried her inside.

xXx

The next morning when Viktor woke, Hermione wasn't in the room. He got up and found Pietra in the kitchen pouring a cup of coffee. "Have you seen Hermione?" he asked.

"She and Todor are on the balcony talking about magic."

Viktor smiled. "Not interested?"

Pietra rolled her eyes. "In magical theory? No. Practical magic is fantastic. Magical theory is very boring."

Viktor laughed.

"To be honest, I'm surprised it took him this long to engage her on the matter. He's usually so quick to talk about magic with people he knows are powerful."

Viktor shrugged. "She can be difficult to approach."

"You think?" Pietra said. "She seems pleasant enough to me."

"She never turned you into a mouse."

Pietra laughed. "True. But I have enough sense not to provoke people, so things like that don't happen to me."

Viktor shook his head. "What is wrong with him?"

"I don't know. I used to blame it on the drugs, but he's been clean for months. I think he just can't control his mouth. He has a thought, and he says it."

Viktor laughed. "It is definitely not the drugs. He has been like that since we were children."

Pietra chuckled. "I'm surprised she has so much patience with him. He keeps asking her questions. I had to have more coffee but she patiently keeps answering."

"I think she is used to being asked questions about magic."

"You want one of these?" Pietra asked holding up her coffee cup.

"Please."

"How are you feeling this morning?" 

"Better," he said.

"And you two are okay?" 

Viktor nodded. "Hermione is not just patient with Todor."

Pietra gave him a knowing smile.

He shook his head. "I did not anticipate being so upset yesterday."

"Why?" she asked. "It hasn't been that long."

"It has been two years. We were only together for three. I thought I would be all right."

"So, you didn't bother to mention it to Hermione."

Viktor sighed. "No, which was stupid."

Pietra took a sip of coffee. "I was shocked when I saw her with her hair down and curly yesterday. They do bear a striking resemblance to each other."

Viktor blew a cooling breath across his cup and looked at her. "Somewhat, yes."

She frowned at him.

"It is not what you think," he said. "I met Hermione first. Nikolina reminded me of her, not the other way around. Besides, it is not as if I went looking for Hermione. We ran into each other in London."

"Viktor," Pietra said, her expression softening. "Of all the teams you could have tried out for, you chose a British team."

"I needed a change," Viktor said. "I speak the language. I went to school there for a year. It was familiar."

"You're saying Hermione wasn't a factor at all?" She clearly didn't believe that.

"No. The last time I saw her was at a friend's wedding, and she was dating that ginger you met. Personally, I did not see the appeal, but I do not really know him."

"You weren't going to contact her then?"

Viktor shrugged. "I might have sent her an owl."

"Hmm," Pietra said and sipped her coffee. "And now she straightens her hair for you. Very accommodating."

He frowned at her, but only said, "Yes." Without additional comment he went out to the balcony.

Hermione was saying, "I don't know how much ability is innate and how much can be expanded through training."

"I think we become more powerful as we learn," Todor said.

"That's certainly possible. We definitely become more powerful as we mature."

Todor nodded.

"I think it's both," Viktor interjected.

"Why?" Todor said.

"Because, I think magic is like athletics. Say you take a hundred kids, same age, same size and you train them for Quidditch. They work the same number of hours and do the same drills. At the end of training, all of them will be better players, but some will be better than others and perhaps just one will be good enough to become a professional. Some spells can be learned by anyone, but not just anyone can perform them. When I was at Hogwarts, there were a lot of students in Ravenclaw that had grades as good as Hermione's, but I doubt any of them could do double-side along apparition when they graduated.

Todor looked at Hermione. "You can do that?"

"Yes," Hermione said.

Todor shook his head and smiled in disbelief. "No, you cannot."

Pietra was standing in the doorway watching the exchange with a curious expression.

Hermione stood and held out her arm. "Care to try me?"

"No," Todor said. "Definitely not."

"Suit yourself," Hermione said and sat back down.

"What else can you do?" Todor asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "What do you want? A list?"

"One time when she Apparated us, I was holding a cup of hot chocolate, and she did not even spill it," Viktor said.

"No," Todor said. "I do not believe that."

Viktor looked at Hermione. "Care to demonstrate?" She stood again and he took her arm. He showed the contents of his mostly full coffee cup to Todor and then they Disapparated. They reappeared in a secluded spot on the beach. Viktor leaned over and kissed her. "You are so sexy when you do that."

Hermione smiled. "How sexy?"

"Very. I would have you right here, but we are in the middle of a demonstration."

Hermione chuckled. "Oh, that's right. Too bad." She took his arm and they reappeared on the balcony. Viktor showed Todor the cup again.

"That is amazing," Todor said. "How do you do that?"

Hermione shrugged. "It's not something anyone showed me how to do. Actually, no one showed me how to do double-side along either. We were attacked and we had to get out of there. Ron and I were together, but the moment we reached Harry, I took us all to Muggle London."

"Did you tell them first?" Pietra asked.

"Actually, no." Hermione said, grimacing. "It was a bit of shock for all of us."

"But you didn't Splinch anyone?" Todor said.

"No."

Todor sat back in his chair, stunned.

"That is the point I was trying to make," Viktor said. "We all learned how to Apparate, but she seems to have an innate sense of Apparition, that I don't think I will ever have, no matter how many times I do it."

"I can't imagine doing a single side-along, much less a double," Pietra said.

"Why Muggle London?" Todor asked.

"What?" Hermione said.

"You said you Disapparated to Muggle London, why?"

"Well, it wasn't safe to take Harry to Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade."

"You seem to know a lot about Muggle cities," Todor said. "You Apparated to Cannes too."

"I'm Muggleborn. I traveled a lot with my parents." Todor's mouth dropped open and he and Pietra both looked at Viktor. Hermione frowned. A cold feeling came over her. "Is that a problem?"

"Of course not," Pietra was quick to say.

"It is surprising though," Todor said.

"Why is that?" Hermione asked, trying to keep her voice neutral and her temper in check.

"In school we were always taught that—" Todor started.

"We were taught a lot of rubbish in school," Viktor said. "I've told you that."

"I cannot believe Karkaroff let you date her," Todor said.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's not like he was happy about it."

"I am my own man," Viktor said. "I date who I please."

"Of course," Todor acquiesced. "But surely, you were surprised when you found out her blood status."

"A little," Viktor admitted. "But she is extraordinary and was at fifteen."

"She was fifteen when you dated her before?" Pietra said, far more scandalized by that than Hermione's blood status.

Viktor blushed red. "She was very mature for her age, besides it is only three years difference."

"Which would have been fine if say she was eighteen and you were twenty-one, but the three years between fifteen and eighteen are big years Viktor," Pietra argued.

Hermione put a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud at Viktor's obvious discomfort.

"How long did you date?" Pietra asked.

"Well…" Viktor sputtered.

"Six months," Hermione said.

Pietra's mouth dropped open. "Viktor you did not!"

"I was a perfect gentleman!" he protested.

"He was," Hermione said, no longer trying to hide her amusement. "Mostly." Viktor's eyes went wide and he glared at her.

Pietra frowned and shook her head at Viktor.

"Traitor," he muttered to Hermione. "I am going down to the beach."

She laughed.

xXx

A little while later, Hermione put a towel on the chaise lounge next to Viktor's and took off her cover-up. He opened one eye and looked over at her. "Mostly?"

She snickered. "Yes."

He huffed and closed his eye. A waiter came over and Hermione ordered a zombie and Viktor asked for a daiquiri.

"I'm never going to get used to that." She pulled her cover-up back over her head.

"What?" Viktor said, without opening his eyes.

"Talking to a waiter when I'm topless."

"Ah. Because you are British."

"I thought I could do this sober today, but no."

"So now you have to get dressed for him to come back with our drinks."

"Yes."

He laughed. "You are very strange."

She frowned, but then cocked her head at him. "Although, you have a point."

"What?"

"Why did you ask me out?"

"Because I liked you. You were different from the other girls."

"But I was fifteen. I didn't have any experience with dating," she said slowly, puzzling it out in her mind. "Viktor, did you ask me out because I was Muggleborn?"

His eyes widened.

Her mouth dropped open. "You did, didn't you?"

He sat up, "Only partly. I liked that you did not fawn all over me like the other girls, and you were interesting to talk to."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "And it made Karkaroff crazy that we were going out."

"That was a bonus." He took her hands in his. "It does not matter why I initially asked. I kept asking because I enjoyed your company."

The waiter appeared then with their drinks. Hermione drank some of hers before saying, "Did you date anyone else at Hogwarts?"

Viktor shook his head. "No. Why?"

"Because you're obviously a very physical guy and we didn't—"

"Hermione..."

"I'm just saying a lot of girls at Hogwarts would've slept with you."

"Yes, but I had already had all that. I wanted something else."

"What do you mean you'd had all that?"

"The fawning girls. I started playing professional Quidditch with the national team when I was sixteen. The Vultures signed me to play with them when I was seventeen. By the time I got to Hogwarts, I had already had more casual sex than most men get in a lifetime. I wanted something else, something more significant. You are special. And, although it took a while, also very hot."

She threw her towel at him and he laughed.


	14. Accident and Emergency

That night the four of them went to a Muggle dance club and were out late. Late the next morning, Todor and Pietra went into town to go shopping, but Viktor and Hermione begged off. They were in the kitchen debating what to do with their day.

"I'm trying to decide if I have enough energy to go down to the beach or if I just want to lay on the balcony like a slug," Hermione said as she tightened the sarong around her waist.

Viktor put a towel around his shoulders. "Come with me. A swim in the ocean will revive you."

"I don't know, I—"

Pietra popped on to the balcony and started screaming. "Help me! The Muggles took him!"

Viktor ran to the balcony. "What happened?"

Hermione ran after him.

Tears were streaming down Pietra's face. "Todor wanted a latte so he went into a café while I went down the street to a shop. A car came on to the sidewalk. It hit several people. I couldn't get to him. They put him in one of those box cars with the lights."

"An ambulance?" Hermione said.

"Yes. He was hurt. What if they cut him open? I've heard Muggles carve people up in their hospitals. We have to get him out!"

"Where is the hospital?" Hermione asked.

"Someone on the street said Gassin," Pietra said.

Hermione ran back inside and began shuffling through the magazines and tourist pamphlets on the coffee table in the lounge until she came up with a map. She pulled out her wand and held it over the map and uttered an incantation Viktor had never heard before. She closed her eyes and opened her hand. Her wand floated up to center over a spot on the map. She looked at Viktor and Pietra. "Please don't ever tell anyone you saw me do this. I'll take him to the magical hospital in Paris. Meet me there." She grabbed her wand and disappeared.

Viktor looked at Pietra. "Where is the nearest Floo?"

"Here," Pietra said. She went into the kitchenette and grabbed a box from under the sink. "Come, my friend had it connected through the fire pit."

They both stepped on to the fire pit and Pietra threw down the powder and shouted Saint Aimo Hôpital Magique and they were pulled away.

xXx

Hermione landed on the roof of the Centre Hospitalier de Saint-Tropez in Gassin and hurried to the edge. The ambulances were still a couple of streets away but she could see them coming. She cast Alohomora on the stairwell door on the roof to open it and hurried down the stairs. It wasn't a large hospital, so she ducked into the second-floor corridor and found a ladies' room, which was thankfully empty. She cast a complex glamour charm to make her look like a doctor to Muggles and hurried downstairs. She hurried through the hallways looking for signs to the Accident and Emergency department. The ambulances were pulling in as she got there. Other doctors were grabbing paper gowns and hurrying to meet them. She held back and watched as they pulled stretchers carrying victims from the back of the ambulances until she saw them take Todor out. She hurried forward. There was an IV in his arm. "I've got this one," Hermione said in a strange tone. The others gave her an odd faraway look and then backed away as she wheeled him into the hospital. She pushed the gurney into the first empty room she found. She locked the door with a temporary charm and took out the IV, and cast Episkey on the wound. He stirred and opened his eyes. "Hermione?"

"It's okay. I'm going to get you to one of our hospitals."

His eyes fluttered closed again.

She leaned over and hugged him and they Disapparated. They landed in Accident and Emergency at Saint Aimo Hôpital Magique in Paris a few moments later. "I need help!" Hermione shouted in French as she sank to her knees lowering Todor to the floor.

House elves and healers appeared as did Viktor and Pietra. Pietra followed the healers as they cast Mobilicorpus and whisked Todor from the room.

Viktor helped Hermione to her feet. She held her side as she got up. "Are you alright?"

She stretched, grimacing as she did so. "I'm okay. I just did a lot of intense magic in a short amount of time."

Viktor looked at her side, which was simple enough given that she was only wearing a bikini and a sarong around her waist. "It looks very red."

"I'm fine Viktor, but I should pop back to the hotel and get us some clothes."

"I will do it," Viktor said. "Go sit down, you need to rest."

She nodded and he Disapparated.

She turned to go to the waiting area when a man appeared with a camera. "Aren't you Hermione Granger?"

She sighed as he snapped her photo. _This day just gets better and better_ , she thought. Instead of walking over to the waiting area, she went to the front desk instead. The photographer continued snapping photos.

"Is there somewhere I could go to get away from this man?" She asked the clerk in French.

The clerk frowned at the photographer and called for security who quickly escorted him from the building. "But I'm waiting for my girlfriend," the photographer said indignantly.

"Well, now you'll have to wait outside," said the guard who looked to have a bit of giant blood in him. He wasn't quite as big as Hagrid, but he was too big to be entirely human. Hermione went over to the waiting area and took a seat. Her side ached and her head hurt. She rubbed her temples and longed for a hot bath and a stiff drink.

Viktor reappeared a few minutes later and handed her a pair of shorts, a T-shirt, and some sandals. Hermione took the clothes. "Thanks, but it's a little late."

"What do you mean? I went as fast as I could."

She patted his chest. "I know, but I've already had my photo taken like this. Wonder where that will appear." She sighed as she went to the ladies room to put on the clothes.

When she returned Viktor had taken a seat in the corner away from the other people in the waiting area. When she sat down, he put his arm around her and she leaned against him. After a moment, he whispered in her ear, "I have never seen anyone Disapparate using only a map before."

"And you still haven't," Hermione said without looking at him.

"But—"

"And you still haven't," Hermione insisted, she pulled the sarong over her like a blanket.

Viktor sighed. "Alright." He tightened his arm around her and she closed her eyes, wishing the deep ache in her side would go away.

Viktor nudged her sometime later and she rubbed her eyes. Pietra was coming across the room. Hermione and Viktor stood to greet her.

"He's going to be fine," Pietra said, as she walked up. "Just some broken bones and bruising. We can take him home."

"Good," Viktor said with relief.

Pietra hugged Hermione. "Thank you, thank you so much. You were amazing."

"You're welcome. I was happy to help."

"I don't know how you—"

Hermione shook her head firmly. "I didn't do anything special. Remember?"

Pietra's mouth popped open. She nodded her head. "Of course."

"When can he leave?" Viktor asked.

"Now," Pietra said. "The problem is how to get him back to the hotel. They don't want him to take the Floo. He's supposed to rest for a couple of days. I was hoping you could take him," she said to Hermione, "So he doesn't have to stay here."

"Sure," Hermione said.

"Great," Pietra said. "It's this way." She turned to go back to Todor's room. Hermione went to follow her, but Viktor grabbed her arm.

"I do not think it is a good idea for you to take him side-along, you are already exhausted."

"I'm fine. It's just one hop, and I had a nap." Viktor went to lift her T-shirt to see for himself, but she grabbed the hem and yanked it back down. "It's fine. Let's just get him back to the hotel."

Viktor sighed in frustration as they followed Pietra.

When they entered the room, Todor was waiting. "Are you ready?" Hermione asked him.

He looked nervously at Pietra.

"You wanted to see how I Apparate," Hermione said with a smile. "This is your chance. You were unconscious last time."

Todor took a deep breath. "All right." He got to his feet.

Hermione stood next to him and put her arm around his waist. He put his arm over her shoulders. "Hang on to me," she said. She looked at Viktor and Pietra. "You two go first, so you can help him when we get there."

Pietra nodded and Disapparated. Viktor gave Hermione one last concerned look and did the same.

Hermione smiled at Todor, raised her wand and Disapparated.

When they arrived in the hotel suite, Pietra took over supporting Todor and helped him into their bedroom.

"Are you okay?" Viktor asked Hermione. "You are very pale."

"Sure," she said as she stumbled to the bar. Her hands were shaking so bad she couldn't open the bottle of whiskey.

Viktor took it from her. "I will get this. Go lay down. I will draw you a bath."

"Thank you," she said gratefully. She shuffled into their bedroom holding her side.

xXx

The next day no one wanted to do anything more taxing than go to the beach.

Viktor was taking a swim. Todor was asleep in his lounge chair. Pietra was looking at magazines, and Hermione was reading a book about the history of the magical community in France.

After a few minutes, Pietra said, "Ooh la la. Isn't this that ginger you used to date?" She held out the magazine. Hermione looked up and saw a photo spread of Harry, Ron, and Ginny at the beach. The headline was 'Heroes on Holiday.' There was a playful picture of Ginny splashing Harry. One of the three of them sitting around a fire and a third of Ron coming out of the ocean. Like Hermione he still hadn't put back on all the weight he'd lost during the war. His swim trunks were white on top and blue on the bottom and hung low on his hips. As he came out of the water, the wet trunks clung to him in a very revealing way. "My," Pietra said. "Isn't he a big boy?"

Hermione could feel her face heat up. Ron was big and he looked thin but fit coming out of the water. He'd obviously used a strong sun blocking charm because his skin was creamy white without freckles. He had more chest hair than the last time she'd seen him shirtless and it narrowed and trailed down his stomach in a dark line where it disappeared inside his trunks. He looked relaxed and happy in a way she hadn't seen him look in a long time, and it tugged hard at her heart strings. She didn't want to see him like this. It made her remember happier times and that hurt. "Yes, that's him," she said with forced nonchalance and returned to her book.

"Better not let Viktor see this," Pietra teased. "It will make him insecure."

"I doubt that," Hermione said dryly. "Viktor is a wonderful lover."

"Oh, I know," Pietra said. "But my goodness," she said, giving Hermione a knowing smile.

Hermione looked at her. "You know?" she said, raising her eyebrows.

"Of course," Pietra said lightly. "We dated in school. He was my first, actually. Come to think of it, I might have been his as well. Did he not mention that?"

Hermione shook her head.

Pietra shrugged. "No matter. It was ages ago. We were kids. Besides, I only agreed to go out with him, because I wanted to get to know Todor better, and I knew they were friends. Todor was dating this other girl though and we didn't end up dating until after we graduated."

"Oh," Hermione said, trying to keep her tone as light as Pietra's, but it bothered her that Viktor hadn't mentioned that he'd slept with Pietra. Presumably Todor knew. Of course, Pietra didn't know about Amsterdam, so Hermione felt like she couldn't be but so upset, but it still irked her that Viktor hadn't mentioned it.

xXx

That night, as they were getting ready for bed, Hermione said, "So you used to date Pietra."

"For a while in school, yes," Viktor said, clearly not bothered by the question. He started brushing his teeth.

"How old were you?" Hermione asked.

Viktor spit out a mouthful of toothpaste. "Fifteen." He rinsed his mouth out and reached for the mouthwash.

"You slept with her?" Hermione said.

He nodded and spat out the mouthwash. "Is that a problem? It was years ago."

"It's just weird, don't you think?" Hermione said.

"What?" Viktor said, wiping his mouth.

"That she's had sex with you and Todor, and so have I."

He shook his head. "You had sex with us at the same time. She had sex with us separately and years apart. Very different."

She frowned at him. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "You worry about nothing. She is with Todor. I am with you. We are good friends. We do not want to be lovers."

"Fine," Hermione said. "But for future reference, if we're going to vacation with anyone else you've slept with, and she's going to be parading around topless half the time, I think I'd like to know up front."

Viktor smiled broadly and kissed her cheek. "I promise I will tell you if we are ever in that situation again."

"Great," Hermione said.

xXx

The next morning as they were packing to leave, Viktor said, "We should think about where we want to go."

Hermione raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"We spend every night together," Viktor said. "Sometimes at your place, sometimes at mine, but unless I am out of town, we are together."

"Right," Hermione said.

"My flat is closer to the Ministry. You would not even need to Apparate, you could walk."

She cocked her head at him. "Are you asking me to move in with you?"

"Yes," he said.

She smiled at him. "All right then."


	15. Harry and Hermione

Ginny was sitting at the kitchen table at Grimmauld Place early Monday morning flipping through _Witch Weekly_ when Harry came downstairs. He poured himself a cup of tea from the pot in front of her and sat down. "Anything good?"

"No," Ginny said. "But there is something odd."

"What?" Harry said.

She slid the magazine toward him and pointed to a large picture on the society page. "What do you make of that?"

Harry looked at it. Unlike the ones in _The Daily Prophet_ , the photos in _Witch Weekly_ were in color. In the photo, Hermione stood in a large white room. She was wearing a dark pink bikini with a matching tie-dyed sarong and was deeply tan. She was barefoot and looked distressed. In the background there were people moving about and some of them were dressed as healers. The caption only read: _Hermione Granger Spotted in Paris._ "It looks like she's in a hospital."

"That's what I thought," Ginny said. "But why would she be dressed like that?"

The Floo opened behind them and Ron stepped out of the kitchen fireplace. "Hiya. What are you two looking at?"

"Nothing," Harry said, but Ron was already leaning over to look.

"What's this?" Ron said, picking up the magazine.

"We were just trying to figure that out," Ginny said.

"She's hurting," Ron said quietly, setting the magazine back on the table. Harry and Ginny leaned over to look at the photo again.

"How can you tell?" Ginny asked.

"She's got her hand pressed against the scar on her side, and her other hand is clenched into a fist. Besides that's the expression she has when she's hurting and doesn't want anyone to know."

Ginny arched an eyebrow at him.

"What?" Ron said. "Just because we're not together right now doesn't mean I can't still read her body language."

"Why is she dressed like that though?" Harry asked. "And doesn't she generally cover her scars with a glamour charm?"

"I don't know why she's dressed like that, but yeah, usually if she's in a swimsuit they're covered," Ron said. "You should go check on her."

"Ron, she's in Paris," Ginny said.

"No, she isn't. I saw her in Diagon Alley going into the market yesterday."

"What did she say?" Harry asked.

"Nothing. I didn't talk to her. I was down the street."

Ginny and Harry glanced at each other.

"Maybe you should check on her," Ginny said.

Harry sighed. "Well, I can't just pop in. That clearly upset her last time."

"Then knock on the bloody door," Ron said. "How hard is that?"

Harry frowned at him. "Fine. I've got some errands to run in London anyway. I'll stop by before my first class."

xXx

Hermione was sound asleep when Viktor called her name. She lifted her head from the pillow only to instantly regret it. She glanced at the clock. It was almost eight. Why she had agreed to go out with Oliver and his girlfriend last night she couldn't currently fathom. They hadn't gotten in until after two in the morning. She had cotton mouth and a splitting headache.

"Hermione!" Viktor bellowed again from downstairs.

She got up, grabbing her wand from the nightstand as she did. He better have a good excuse for all the shouting. Her side cramped as she got up. "Dammit," she hissed and made her way downstairs. "If you don't stop shouting, I will hex you into next week," she said as she stepped into the kitchen, but instead of Viktor, Harry sat at the table with a cup of tea. Hermione felt all the blood drain from her face as she realized she was standing there in a too short, sheer nightie looking like death warmed over. She stepped back out into the hall and held out her hand for her dressing gown. She had no idea where Viktor was. He must have shouted for her to get up and then popped off for work without mentioning that Harry was there? She clenched her teeth in irritation.

A moment later, she went back into the kitchen knotting the sash of a black silk dressing gown around her waist. "Harry," she said, smiling. "What an unexpected surprise."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, standing to hug her. "I should have sent an owl, but I was in London, and thought I'd stop by." He made a face as he went to hug her and she knew she must reek.

She could feel herself blush as she said, "If you could give me a moment to freshen up and get dressed, we can have a spot of breakfast and a nice chat."

"I don't want to trouble you," Harry said, glancing around at the state of the kitchen.

Hermione forced a light laugh. "Don't be silly. I'll only be a moment." She cast a complex cleaning spell on the kitchen which caused her scar to tighten up. She hurried into her study, grabbed some hangover potion out of the cabinet and quickly swallowed it down before going back upstairs to shower and change. She took a quick shower and brushed her teeth, and cast a drying charm on her hair. She just left it down and pulled on a pair of charcoal gray slacks and a black cashmere jumper and some black loafers.

The dust bin was taking itself outside just as she stepped back into the kitchen. "How do you feel about a fry up, Muggle style?" she asked as she pulled eggs and bacon from the icebox.

Harry shrugged. "Sounds good, let me help." Hermione smiled and handed him a frying pan. They worked side by side.

"How have you been?" Hermione asked.

"Good," Harry said as he placed the bacon in the pan.

"Married life treating you well?"

"Very," he said. "Ginny's great."

She smiled at him. "That's good to hear. I'm glad you two are so happy."

"How are you doing?"

"Good," Hermione said, as she put some bread in the toaster.

"I'm glad to hear it. I was worried when I saw that photo."

She took a bowl out of the cabinet. "What photo?"

"The one in _Witch Weekly_."

"I don't read _Witch Weekly._ " She cracked an egg into the bowl.

"Maybe you should. You're in it quite a lot."

"All the more reason not to read it."

"This week they had a picture of you standing in what looked like a hospital wearing nothing but a bikini and a sarong."

She cracked another egg into the bowl. "Oh, that."

"Yeah." Harry turned the bacon. "What was that about?"

"A friend of ours was hurt at the beach in France, so I took him side-along to the magical hospital in Paris."

"A friend of yours?" Harry said, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes. I have other friends."

He winced. "Ron said it looked like you were hurting."

Her eye twitched at the mention of Ron's name. "I'm fine."

"Okay," Harry said quietly. They finished making breakfast in silence.

When they were done and putting the plates on the table, Hermione said, "I'm famished."

"You look thin, too thin." Harry said as he cut into his egg.

Hermione shrugged. "I've lost a bit of weight I suppose. I've been really busy at work."

"And at play, it seems. You and Viktor make regular appearances on the cover of _Witch Weekly_ and in the society column of the _Prophet_."

She didn't understand why he wanted to start in about that again. She grimaced. "It's constant, I know. Vultures. Especially Rita. Although, it's not as if you don't make regular appearances yourself."

Harry nodded. "Yeah." He took a bite of bacon. "It looks like you're packing."

Hermione looked out the window. A group of children in matching school uniforms walked by on the other side of the street. "I'm moving in with Viktor."

Harry set down his fork. "You're what?"

She sighed. "This place is too big for two people. His flat is closer to the Ministry and the Stadium. We spend most of our time there anyway." That wasn't true. They'd spent most of their time at her place, but Viktor had made a good point about not needing to Apparate to the Ministry from his flat. "It seems silly to keep going back and forth when the Diagon Alley entrance to the Ministry is right across from his building."

"But Hermione," Harry said.

She looked at him, but he didn't say anything. She shook her head. "It's not like I'm selling this place. It's just more convenient to live with Viktor right now."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "More convenient?"

Hermione sighed. "You know what I mean."

Harry frowned. "I don't think I do."

"Viktor is a good person, Harry."

"Are you listening to yourself?" Harry asked. "'He's a good person' is something you say about a coworker, not someone you're planning on moving in with."

Hermione glared at him. He was being such a prat about this. "What do you want from me, Harry?"

"Tell me that you love him. Tell me that you're happy. Tell me that this is about more than just getting back at Ron." He'd crossed a line with the last part. Hermione felt herself flush with anger.

"This has nothing to do with Ron," she hissed, furious that he would think that. "You of all people should know me better than that."

"I thought I did," Harry said. "But when you first walked down those stairs, I barely recognized you. What's going on? What are you doing?"

Hermione shook her head. "Nothing. I'm just living. I take things as they come now. I don't let myself get wound up like I used to. Viktor understands that."

"Are you saying Ron doesn't?" Harry asked.

"I'm saying," Hermione said, sighing with frustration, "that this doesn't have anything to do with Ron. Viktor and I are in the same place right now. We work. I'm sorry if that isn't the relationship picture you want me to paint, but I think I've outgrown my rainbows and butterflies phase. Right now, I'm just happy to be with someone kind who appreciates me and doesn't expect me to be something I'm not."

"Okay," Harry said. "But are you saying Ron didn't appreciate you? Or that he wasn't kind?"

"Harry," Hermione sighed again. The whole conversation was exhausting.

"I'm just trying to figure this out. I don't understand what happened."

"You'll have to ask Ron," she said.

"I'm asking you." He was clearly irritated with her. "Why won't you tell me?"

She felt a sudden wave of sadness that overwhelmed her irritation that he wouldn't let it go. "I just can't."

"All he says is that you left."

"Well, that makes sense," Hermione said, all the fight drained out of her.

Harry shook his head. "No, it doesn't! It doesn't make any sense at all. You're too loyal to just leave. You loved him too much."

Hermione could feel herself tear up. She closed her eyes and willed herself not to cry.

"Please," Harry pleaded. "I don't understand."

She stood and stroked her fingers down his face and cupped his cheek. "Me either. You need to go." She left the room, letting the tears fall as she walked back upstairs.

xXx

When Viktor got back later that evening, Hermione was drunk in the parlor. There were two bottles of wine, one empty and one half full, and a full ashtray on the coffee table and a heatless fire roaring in the fireplace. She was asleep when he came in.

"Hermione!" he shouted.

She barely opened her eyes. "Yeah."

"What the hell is all this? Did you not go to work? What did Harry say to you this morning?"

"Nothing," she mumbled and let her head loll back.

Viktor reached for her. "Get up."

"No," she groaned.

He stormed into her study and went through her potions cabinet until he found an antidote to common poisons. He was irritated to see the memories were still in their bottles pushed to the back of the cabinet. He returned to the parlor. "Get up," he said again.

She rolled away from him.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her up. "Sit up and drink this."

"I don't want it," she growled.

"I do not care," he said, shaking her by the shoulders. "Drink this yourself or I will pour it down your throat."

She glared at him, her eyes flashing. "I'd like to see you try."

He gritted his teeth. "Do not push me, Hermione. I may not be as powerful as you are, but I am not weak, and in your current condition, I like my chances. Just drink the potion."

She set her jaw and he thought she was going to refuse, which made him nervous. He didn't like to think how this might go, she could be extremely dangerous, even more so uninhibited. When she snatched the potion out of his hand and drank it, he breathed a sigh of relief.

She fell over and curled into a ball, her teeth clenched against the pain. Viktor knew the antidote caused sudden intense cramps, but he also knew they'd pass quickly. "I know it hurts, but it will be over in a minute."

"Fuck you," she managed to spit out.

"Maybe later," he said glibly.

"In your dreams," she growled.

He chuckled. "In my dreams, in my bed, against the wall, on the floor, wherever."

She glared at him but began to uncurl. When she could sit up, she frowned at him. "Why exactly was that necessary?"

"You were drunk and we have a charity event in an hour."

She closed her eyes and turned away from him. "I forgot."

"Clearly," he said. "What happened after I left this morning?"

"Nothing," she said again and stood. "I'm going to get in the shower."

"Do not do that," he said.

She rolled her eyes. "Unless you want me to go like this, I need to shower."

"That is not what I meant, and you know it," Viktor said, irritated with her. "What did Harry say? And do not say 'nothing.'"

"Fine. How about none of your business?"

"It is always secrets with you."

"Don't start."

"He has Apparition privileges into this house. He shows up unannounced. The last time he came in he lifted up your shirt like I was not even there. Did he undress you this time as well?"

She frowned at him. "Don't exaggerate. He didn't undress me last time. He was checking a wound."

"One you hide from everyone else."

"I don't hide it from you. I don't even hide it from Todor and Pietra."

"Only because they saw it by accident, not because you were being open about it," he said angrily.

"What do you want Viktor?"

"I want you to be honest with me," he said, softening his tone.

"Fine. Harry was upset to find out you and I were moving in together. He wants me back with Ron and doesn't understand why I left him. Happy now?"

"Why do you not just tell him why you left?" Viktor asked gently.

She shook her head. "I can't do that."

"Why not? Harry is your friend. You have obviously been through a lot together. Too much. Why can you not be honest with him?"

She sighed. "Because he's married to Ron's sister. He's Ron's best friend. If I told him, he'd be furious at Ron."

"Someone should be," Viktor said, exasperated with her stance on this.

"No. If I drive a wedge between Ron and Harry then that will force Ginny to choose sides. Ron has a close family. If Ginny and Ron are on the outs, the others will notice and want to know why, which could potentially isolate Ron from the family, and he needs them. He needs Harry. Look, the last few times I've seen him, he's been sober. You know how important that is. I don't want to mess it up. What happened is over. I've moved on."

"Have you?" Viktor said. "Because it seems to me, if you had, there would be no need to get drunk over it."

She closed her eyes for a moment. "I miss them. Okay? I miss them. They were my best friends, my first real friends. I spent almost every day with them for eight years. It's hard not to have them in my life, which isn't to say I'm not happy. You're great, and I like Todor and Pietra and Oliver and the rest of your teammates. I do, but it's not the same." She wiped away a tear that had slipped down her cheek. Viktor put his arms around her and she hugged him back. "It's so hard sometimes."

"I know," he said, and kissed her forehead. "It seems to me you have sacrificed an awful lot for Ron."

"I did," she said quietly. "But he sacrificed more for me."

xXx

Ginny was fixing Harry's tie when they heard Ron shout from downstairs, "Oi, are you two ready? It's time to go."

Harry sighed and bellowed back, "We'll be down in a minute."

"Are you going to tell him?" Ginny asked.

"Only if he asks," Harry said.

Ginny smiled sympathetically. "You know he's going to."

"Yeah, I know. Let's go downstairs. We don't want to be late."

Ron was pacing when they reached the kitchen. "What took you so long? We're supposed to be there in ten minutes."

"Which means we have nine more minutes," Ginny snapped.

"Yeah, but I wanted to ask how it went," Ron said. When neither of them said anything, he prompted, "With Hermione."

"Fine," Harry said. "She's good."

"Then what was the deal with that picture?"

Harry shrugged. "Not much really. One of their friends got hurt in France so Hermione took him side-along to the magical hospital in Paris."

"Dressed like that?" Ron said incredulously.

"It was an emergency and they were at the beach," Harry said.

"Well, what else did she say?" Ron asked.

"Nothing."

"What do you mean? She was clearly hurting in that picture,"

"I told you," Harry said, irritated that Ron wouldn't drop it. "She's fine."

"That's it?" Ron said, exasperated.

"Ron, let it go," Ginny said.

"Seriously," Ron said. "What did you do, just show up, ask about the picture, and leave?"

"No. We had breakfast together."

"And?"

"And then I left."

"That can't be all you talked about," Ron said.

Harry frowned, irritated that Ron wouldn't take the hint. "Fine. We talked about her moving in with Viktor because she was obviously packing. There were boxes all over the place."

"What?" Ron gasped.

"Yeah. They're moving in together and then I made an ass of myself by bringing up you."

Ron's face fell. "You didn't."

"I did. For the thousandth time, I asked why she left and for the thousandth time, she told me to ask you."

"Right," Ron said, sitting down hard on one of the kitchen chairs.

"Bollocks! I'm so sick of this rubbish from both of you." He turned to Ginny. "Come on, let's go." He drew his wand and took her hand and they disappeared leaving Ron alone with his thoughts.

xXx

The charity event was a gala to raise galleons for people devastated by the war. Viktor looked very handsome in his navy-blue dress robes, he had a little gold pin of crossed bulrushes on his lapel to show his affiliation with Puddlemere United. Hermione was in a scarlet gown with a fairly high neckline, but a very low back, a gift from Viktor.

"You look fantastic," he said as he ushered her into the event with his hand on the small of her back. She took comfort in the warmth of his hand as flash bulbs went off all around them. She had her standard public smile plastered on her face, but inside she grimaced at the attention. It wasn't that she didn't like the way she looked. She knew the dress fit well and her hair was up in a smooth French twist that accentuated her neck, but she just wasn't in the mood for the show. People were going to request photos of her with Ron and Harry, and she was irritated with both of them.

"I need a glass of wine," she said as they entered the ballroom.

Viktor arched a disapproving eyebrow at her.

"What?" she said. "Surely you don't expect me to do this entirely sober."

He frowned. "Haven't you had enough today?"

"I don't think so," she snapped.

His frowned deepened, but he headed to the bar anyway. The moment he left her side, Hermione regretted not following. She could see Harry and Ginny on the other side of the room.

"Hermione?"

She turned to see Thomas Greene approaching. "Thomas. What are you doing here?"

"I suppose the same thing you are. It's a good cause. Although, come to think of it, I had to pay to get in. I suspect you're a special guest."

Hermione could feel herself blush. "It's a nice surprise to see you outside of work."

He smiled. "I do occasionally leave the department."

"We all have to sometimes," she said, smiling back.

Viktor returned then with two glasses of red wine. He handed one to Hermione. "Thank you," she said. "Viktor this is Thomas Greene. Thomas this is Viktor Krum."

The two men shook hands.

"I work with Hermione," Thomas said. "She's a tremendous asset to the department."

Viktor smiled. "That does not surprise me."

"I have to say," Thomas continued. "You had a banner season this year. I'm hoping the coming one will be just as good."

"Thank you," Viktor said modestly. "I hope so too."

"I'm sorry to ask, but do you think I could get a picture with you two? My mum will lose her mind."

"Of course," Viktor said.

Thomas waved over a photographer and a moment later he stood between them and the flash went off. "That's great. Thank you," he said. "I'll let you two get back to your evening. Have a good night."

"You too," Hermione said.

Viktor chuckled softly next to her. "He seems nice."

"He is. He's also brilliant."

"He speaks very highly of you."

"I'm brilliant too." She winked at him.

Viktor laughed. "I know, darling. No need to remind me."

Hermione laughed.

"It was nice to be asked for a photograph together. That doesn't happen much."

"No," she said wistfully. "I wish they were all like that."

He kissed her forehead and she sipped her wine.

A band started to play a few minutes later, and Viktor held out his hand. "Care to dance?"

"Always." She took his hand.

xXx

Ron appeared outside the event after it was in full swing. He'd decided to go stag because his last three dates were abysmal. Maybe he'd luck out and Hermione would show up without Krum and they could talk, really talk. He hated that he'd missed that opportunity at Harry and Ginny's wedding. He was disappointed almost immediately. He spotted her instantly in her crimson gown dancing with Viktor. They were doing a foxtrot, and he was irrationally angry that Viktor was such a good dancer. Why had he never taken the time to learn to really dance when he was with her? Why did he have to wait to do that until she was already gone. He was a pretty good dancer now, not as good as Viktor, but he could move a woman around a dance floor without tripping over himself or stepping on her. He could follow the beat. Viktor, on the other hand, looked like he could have been a professional dancer. _What a prat._ Viktor twirled Hermione then and Ron noticed the plunging backline of her dress. Something tightened in his gut and he remembered running his tongue along her spine and holding her hips as he took her from behind. He could still remember the taste of her, could still remember the feel of her sweat slick body beneath him. He shook his head to clear the memories before he ended up with a raging hard-on in a room full of people.

"Hey," Ginny said, coming up behind him with two glasses of beer in her hands. "I wasn't sure you'd show."

"I'm here," Ron said, turning away from Viktor and Hermione. "What are you doing?"

"Getting Harry and me a beer," Ginny said.

"Isn't the guy supposed to do that?" Ron asked with a smirk.

"We could die of thirst waiting for him to be able to extricate himself from his adoring public," Ginny said. "It's easier if I go."

xXx

Now that the golden trio were assembled, people began to approach Hermione about having her picture taken with Ron and Harry. For the next two hours, she danced and periodically had her photo snapped. She was always sure to put the new person and Harry between her and Ron. She knew he noticed because he gave her a hurt look every time she did it. Eventually, he couldn't stand it anymore and used his considerable wingspan to reach out and stroke her arm behind everyone's backs. She flinched away from him, causing Harry to notice. Ron had the decency to look chagrined as he blushed crimson. After the photo, Hermione excused herself and went out on to the balcony for some fresh air. Ron watched her go.

Ginny, who had been standing to the side and had witnessed the whole thing, narrowed her eyes at her brother. "What did you do?"

He glowered at her. "Mind your own business." He walked off.

Harry looked at Ginny. "What was that about?"

Ginny shook her head. "I don't know, but I don't like it."

Harry sighed. "I'm going to go talk to her. Viktor looks like he's tied up for the moment." Across the room Viktor was surrounded by people having an animated conversation.

"Good idea," Ginny said.

xXx

Harry found Hermione smoking a cigarette alone on the balcony.

"Hey," he said.

She turned to look at him. "Hi, Harry."

"Well that got weird," Harry said.

"What?"

"You flinched away from him."

Hermione gave him a sharp look and took a long drag on her cigarette. She blew out a stream of smoke. "He shouldn't put his hands on me."

"It's not as though he groped you."

"He knows better," she insisted. "Any touch can be misconstrued. What if someone snapped a photo of that? The next _Witch Weekly_ will feature it on the cover with a headline implying that I'm stepping out on Viktor right under his nose."

Harry cocked his head and looked at her. Her explanation was plausible, but he felt like there was more to it than that. Her response to Ron's touch had been so immediate, it was hard to believe it was calculated. Harry had already pissed her off earlier that day though, so he just said. "Sure. Right." She took another drag of her cigarette and turned back to lean against the railing. Harry leaned next to her. "I wanted to apologize about this morning. I didn't go there with the intention of upsetting you. It's just that this is hard for me."

"I know," she said gently.

"Anyway," Harry said. "I won't bring it up again."

"I appreciate that," Hermione said.

He gave her a weak smile before going back inside. She lit another cigarette and wished she'd thought to grab a glass of wine. A few minutes later, she felt warm hands slide around her waist.

"Taking a break?" Viktor said, and kissed the back of her neck.

"I needed one," Hermione said.

"How much longer do we have to stay?"

She turned around to face him. "Well, we've made our donations, and we've been here for three hours, and we both have to work in the morning. I think it's fair to go anytime now."

"Good," he said. "Because that dress has been crying out for me to take it off all night."

She smiled and he cupped her neck as he bent to kiss her.

xXx

When Ron saw Harry come back in, he began moving through the crowd to reach the balcony doors. He wanted to talk to Hermione. She couldn't keep doing this to him. He didn't understand why was she treating him like some kind of leper and always putting as many people as possible between them for a photo. He couldn't imagine why she'd flinched away from him. One finger on her arm and she acted like he'd burned her. Something tugged at the back of his mind, something about that last night, but before he could catch the memory it was swept away by the scene in front of him. As Ron approached the balcony doors, he saw her in Viktor's arms. Viktor leaned in to kiss her. He had his hand on her neck in a way that Ron knew she liked. She had her hands on his chest and he knew how that felt. He was suddenly cold all over like he'd been plunged into ice water. Without breaking the kiss, he saw Hermione raise her wand, and then they were gone.

Ron continued on to the balcony and leaned against the railing and stared out at Muggle London glittering below him. He thought about Hermione's hands: how small they felt when he held them, how cool they felt when she touched him, how she'd always had one on him when they slept. He wasn't sure if she'd done that to confirm that he was there, safe beside her, or to reassure herself that she wasn't alone. Maybe it was both. A chilly breeze blew across the balcony reminding him that summer was over. He closed his eyes and let it wash over him. He wondered if she kept a hand on Viktor at night. He shook his head, still disbelieving things had turned out like they had. He looked at his watch. Margaret, his bedtime buddy at The Leaky Cauldron, was still at work for another hour. It was only ten o'clock, so he pulled his wand and Apparated to the Burrow.


	16. Old Magic

Lights were lit in the kitchen as Ron walked the path through the back garden. He remembered that first night back at the Burrow, when he'd finally been released from St. Mungo's. Hermione had been released three weeks before him but kept coming to the hospital every day to sit by his side. His mother had made a fabulous dinner for his homecoming and the entire family had been there, but by nightfall, he'd been completely exhausted and so was Hermione. He'd held out his hand to her and told her to come to bed. His mother had started to protest, but Ron had held up a hand to stop her. "We're not sleeping alone, Mum. We're never sleeping alone again," he'd said. If only that had remained true. Hermione had stood silently staring at the floor, holding his hand, while he declared his nighttime intensions. His mother hadn't continued her protest, so he'd led Hermione upstairs. She didn't say anything to him, just silently undressed and got into the narrow single bed he'd slept in at home since he'd left his crib. They were both so thin from their ordeal that it didn't matter that they were two in a single. They fit fine. There was no energy for sex, so they just lay there naked and curled together. He remembered thinking at the time what a relief it was to no longer be in the hospital, and that everything would be all right. As he reached the door to the Burrow, he knew things were further from all right between them than they had ever been.

His mother was sitting at the kitchen table, looking at a magazine and drinking a cup of chamomile tea. "Ron?" she said, clearly surprised and delighted by the unexpected visit from her youngest son. "What brings you out so late?"

"I just thought I'd pop in and see if you were still up," Ron said taking a seat across from her.

She flicked her wand and another cup came sailing toward them. She plucked it from the air and poured Ron some chamomile from the pot on the table.

"What have you got there?" Ron asked.

His mother showed him the cover of _Witch Weekly_.

"Ah," Ron said, realizing then that she'd had it open to the Eye Witness pages that featured famous witches and wizards out and about. The photo of Hermione in the hospital in Paris figured prominently on the left page.

His mother closed the magazine. "Just tittle tattle. I'd stop getting it, but I do like the recipes, and sometimes they have good knitting spells."

"Sure," Ron said. "I guess you saw the picture of Hermione."

"Yes," his mother said hesitantly. "I wasn't quite sure what to make of that."

Ron cleared his throat. "Apparently, there was some kind of emergency when she was at the beach in France and she had to take a friend side-along to the hospital in Paris."

"Oh," his mother said. "Well, that explains the outfit then."

"Yes," Ron said with a half-smile.

"So, you talked to her then, dear?"

"No. Harry went to check on her. She looks to be in some pain in the photo."

"Really?"

"Harry and Ginny missed it too. She probably just overdid it on the magic. You know how she gets."

His mother nodded. "Yes."

They sat in silence for a minute. Ron was so tired he leaned over and rested his forehead against the table.

"Are you all right?"

He shook his head.

"Oh, Ron," his mother said and reached over and ruffled his hair.

"I hate this," he said to the table.

"I know," his mother said soothingly.

Ron thought about getting up and going to see Margaret. She was off soon. The sitter had probably already put her kids to bed, so he could pop over for a bit of slap and tickle before he went home. He liked Margaret. She was from Ginny's year but left school early and married a Muggleborn from Percy's year. Her pureblood parents had disowned her and they hadn't changed their minds even though she had a kid and she was pregnant with another when her husband was killed in the war. She wanted nothing more from Ron than he wanted from her, some physical comfort and a little conversation. They never talked about the future and never discussed a past more than twenty-four hours old. He wondered if she would have accepted an invitation to the Gala had she not had to work tonight. He thought not. They'd never been in public together. She'd never introduced him to her kids or to her friends. She seemed somewhat embarrassed by the idea of being with another pureblood, as if that alone were a sign of prejudice. As for him, he didn't care about her blood status or anything else beyond the fact that she was up for a shag in the wee hours of the morning when no one else was around. He considered that option tonight, but decided he wasn't up for it. The image of Hermione standing in that hospital haunted him. "Can I stay here tonight, Mum?"

"Of course, you can. You needn't ask."

"Thanks, Mum." He stood and kissed his mother on the cheek before trudging upstairs to his childhood bedroom. He stopped at the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth, before continuing on to the top floor. He smiled at the small bed and pulled his wand to cast the spell to make it long enough so his feet wouldn't hang off the end. He stripped down to his underpants and got under the covers. He was bone tired but couldn't sleep. Memories swirled around his head and being back in that bed wasn't helping that. He should've just gone home to his flat, but that seemed unbearably grim too. He closed his eyes trying to force sleep to come, but instead he thought of Hermione and all the times they'd slept in that room.

Prior to the war, she'd never slept in his room. She'd always stayed with Ginny downstairs, but there had been the occasional romp that last summer before they left with Harry to hunt Horcruxes. He thought of seventeen-year-old Hermione: brilliant, slim, wild-haired, and passionate, frightened of things to come, but brave enough to face them anyway. He'd loved her so fiercely then. It occurred to him, that he'd never seen her naked unscarred. He wondered what she'd looked like before Dolohov cast the curse that left the long purple scar between her breasts. They were so young when that happened. He frowned and wondered if Viktor had seen her breasts without the scar. He knew they hadn't had sex, that he had been her first, but he wondered how far things had gone with Viktor fourth year? He'd never had the guts to ask her. He shook his head. It didn't matter. Standing in that hospital in Paris, she was most definitely grown up, with a woman's body, thin, but filled out in all the best ways. She wasn't a girl anymore and she wasn't his. He stared at the ceiling and thought again of coming back to the Burrow after the hospital.

For months, his wand had just felt like a stick in his hand because his magic had been so depleted. He had to eat a fire berry every morning at breakfast and resented how everyone around him could effortlessly do magic, everyone except Hermione. She was still powerful, but the cursed wound in her side wasn't healed and performing magic cost her dearly, so they spent their days like Muggles. He felt muted and decrepit, and she felt like an oppressed child. They didn't talk much during the day to each other or anyone else. Harry could not have been more solicitous and took on most of their care. He'd swabbed wounds with sticky green goo, changed bandages, checked progress, and administered the potions the hospital healers had sent home with them. Ginny helped as much as he would allow, which wasn't much. He blamed himself for their condition knowing that their sacrifice was more for him personally than for the cause as a whole. Ginny had initially grumbled at the care he took with Hermione, but eventually let it go.

xXx

Nights were different. Ron and Hermione lay curled together in a bed Harry had transfigured to better accommodate Ron's large frame. At first, they'd just held each other, but as days turned into weeks Hermione began to touch him, slowly at first and then more insistently. He didn't respond initially, didn't feel like loving her, didn't feel worthy of her love, but she'd persisted. Every night she went a little further until eventually his body responded despite what he was thinking. When she finally had him inside her, she took his hands in hers and kissed him, slipping her tongue into his mouth, opening him to her and then she did something she had never done before. She pulled up her magic and shared. Having her power poured into him was the most intense experience he'd ever had, and it almost overwhelmed him. He thought at one point he might pass out. It was the most tremendous orgasm of his life. When she slid off of him, he felt restored, whole, in a way he hadn't felt in months. "What did you do?" he'd gasped as she got out of bed.

She dropped to her knees. "I might need a little help here."

Ron rolled out of bed and went to help her. The bandage on her side was soaked through with blood. "Oh bollocks!" He snatched his trousers off the floor and pulled them on, grabbed his wand, and ran downstairs.

"Wait!" Hermione cried, but it was too late. He'd left her naked on the floor.

"Accio bandages!" Ron shouted as he thundered downstairs to Ginny's room. It was late. Everyone was asleep. Despite the fact that Harry was supposed to be asleep in Fred and George's old room, Ron knew where he'd actually be sleeping. The bandages came flying at him. He caught them before bursting in to Ginny's room. Thankfully, they were only sleeping, but Harry came out of bed like a warrior, his wand flying instantly from the nightstand into his hand.

"Help!" Ron cried. "Bring that green goo for Hermione. I don't know what it's called." He turned around and started running back upstairs. Harry was out of bed and calling for the Murtlap Essence.

All the running and shouting had woken Molly, who appeared at her doorway. "What's happened?"

Ginny was coming out of her room as Harry was running upstairs after Ron. "Something's happened to Hermione."

They heard her cry out and both hurried up the stairs.

"Don't move her," Harry said as Ginny and Molly reached the door. "Just leave her where she is."

Ron had reached for Hermione to put her back in bed but left her on the floor at Harry's command. Harry was on his knees looking at the wound in her side.

"For heaven's sake, Ron," Hermione groaned, doing her best to cover herself with her arms. "Get me a sheet or something."

"Oh, please," Harry said. "I've seen you naked. It's not all that. This looks bad. We might have to take you back to St. Mungo's."

"No!" Hermione cried. "Just use the Murtlap Essence and bandage it again."

Harry shook his head. "You better get your Mum, Ron."

"I'm right here," Molly said, stepping over to Hermione. "It's alright, dear. Boys," she said to Harry and Ron. "Get out of here." Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Molly silenced him with a fierce look. "Right now."

"No," Ron said equally fiercely as he pulled a sheet off the bed and did his best to cover Hermione while leaving the wound exposed. "It's my fault she's in this state."

"No, it isn't," Hermione argued weakly.

Molly assessed the bleeding wound. "What exactly did you do?"

"I shared," Hermione said.

Molly's eyes went wide. "No, you did not!" She pulled the bandage off and began applying a heavy coat of Murtlap Essence, but it didn't do much to stop the bleeding. Molly shook her head and glanced angrily at Ron. "How could you let her do that?" She cast a spell to staunch the flow of blood before applying bandages to the wound.

"I didn't bloody well know what she was doing, did I?" Ron said.

Molly shook her head again as she finished dressing the wound. "Hermione what were you thinking? Of all the irresponsible—"

"Can someone please explain what she did?" Ginny said from the door.

Molly pulled her wand from her dressing gown pocket and cast "Mobilicorpus to lift Hermione back into bed. Ron was quick to get her covered with the sheet and blankets. "Well, she set her recovery back several weeks, I can tell you that," Molly said with clear irritation. "And she's back on blood replenishing potion. What were you thinking?" she said again to Hermione.

"I thought I was well enough to do it. He was so miserable without his magic," Hermione said weakly, barely able to keep her eyes open.

Molly stamped her foot. "Irresponsible!" she said again. "I would expect you to have more sense than that!"

"What the hell did she do?" Ginny shouted.

Molly folded her arms across her chest and frowned. "She shared her magic with Ron."

"What?" Harry said. "You can do that?"

"Come on," Molly said, softening a bit. "She needs to sleep. Let's go downstairs. I need a cuppa."

Ron leaned over and kissed Hermione's forehead before following the others downstairs. She was already dozing off.

When they reached the kitchen, his father was already holding his wand to the kettle to heat it. "What's happened?" he said.

"You won't believe what that girl did," Molly said.

"What?" Arthur asked.

"She shared," Molly said, her voice dripping with disapproval.

Arthur's eyebrows shot up. "No, she didn't."

"Seriously?" Ginny said. "Why is that a big deal?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "And why didn't someone do it sooner? Ron has his magic back."

Molly shook her head. "That won't last. Hermione would have to share her magic with him every day for a week or more for it to be permanent. Obviously, given the state she's in, that can't happen. The fire berries are slower, but they'll work."

"Why can't one of us share with him?" Harry asked. "And why has no one mentioned this before?"

Molly and Arthur glanced at each other. "Well," Arthur said. "It requires a great deal of power and—"

"Hello," Harry said. "I'm the Chosen One. I'm no slouch in the power department."

"Of course," Molly said, her cheeks going pink. "But—"

Ron sighed. "It's shared through sex."

"Oh," Harry said.

"It's very old magic," Arthur said. "It's never done anymore except in emergencies. It's too exhausting for the giver and rather intense for the receiver, and as your mother said, it has to be done several times for it to be a permanent fix. The fire berries are a much safer alternative."

Molly poured them all a cup of tea.

"I feel better than I've felt in months," Ron said. "How long will it last?"

"I'm not sure," his mother said. "But I wouldn't think more than a day or so. Be sure to take your fire berry in the morning. That might make it last a bit longer."

Arthur put his hand on Ron's shoulder. "A few more months of fire berries, son, and you'll be right as rain. You just have to be patient."

"I have been," Ron said. "I didn't ask Hermione to do that. I didn't even know it was possible, and she didn't tell me beforehand."

Harry shook his head. "If she gets an idea in her head, there's no stopping her."

"She is rather irrepressible," Arthur said.

"Yes, but she's set her own recovery back weeks," Molly said.

Ron sighed.

"Well, I'm going back to bed," Harry said. "I'm knackered." He headed upstairs.

Ginny finished the last of her tea and stood. "Me too."

"Yeah," Ron said, standing. "I should too." He was partway up the stairs when he turned to go back to the kitchen for a glass of water in case Hermione woke up thirsty. He heard his mother say in a low tone, "I don't know how she stood it. It must have been excruciating."

"One thing's for sure," his father said. "She certainly loves him."

xXx

Ron blinked and thought about his father's words. Hermione did love him. He knew she did. He knew he'd bollocksed things up between them, but surely that love was still there. He knew he still loved her. He thought again of the photo of her in the bikini in Paris. He took his wand from the night stand, got out of bed, and opened the door. All the lights were off in the house, so he quietly said, "Accio _Witch Weekly_." The magazine soared upstairs. He caught it and opened it to the Eyewitness pages. He locked his bedroom door, settled back in bed, and examined the photo closely. The scar on her chest, which had faded to white when they were still together, was a dark purple, and the scar on her side, which wasn't completely covered by her hand pressed against it, was an angry red. He knew now that they weren't hidden because she'd done side-along Apparition from southern France to Paris. Even Hermione couldn't maintain a glamour charm under those conditions. She was breathing hard in the picture, causing her breasts to rise and fall enticingly. It was refreshing to see her photographed without Viktor and the fact that she was half naked made it all the better. He slipped his hand inside his pants. He knew he shouldn't, but there she was and he was all alone. A wank she didn't know about would hardly hurt her. He thought again about the intensity of her sharing her magic with him, and that was all he needed.

xXx

Meanwhile further south, lying next to Viktor, who was sound asleep, Hermione woke. She was fully aroused and magic was pulsing through her as though she were casting a complex spell. She felt Ron's presence so strongly he could have been standing in the room. She frowned, went into the bathroom, calling her wand as she went. She had a standard good memory that she thought of to create her Patronus and sent it off into the night. As her Patronus disappeared she slipped her hand inside her knickers hoping to ease the pressure. "Damn you, Ron," she muttered.

xXx

Ron, let the magazine drop to the floor as he felt himself relax completely. That was almost as intense as the real thing had been. He was startled alert a moment later when a silver otter came bounding through the wall. If it was possible for an otter to have a look of disapproval, this one did. It sat up on its hind legs and spoke with Hermione's voice. "Whatever you're doing, stop it!" The otter dissipated and Ron was left with an overwhelming sense of shame.

That night, Ron dreamed about Hermione. Mostly he dreamed about the time they'd gone to see her parents before they'd started the hunt for the Horcruxes, when their love was new and the worst of the horrors they would eventually face were still ahead of them. He woke the next morning with a heavy heart and a question for his dad.

His parents were at the kitchen table eating breakfast when Ron came downstairs. "Dad," Ron said, sitting across from them and filling a plate with eggs and bacon. "Do you have a tellyvisic?"

"A television?" his father said.

"Yeah, do you have one of those?"

His father scratched at the stubble on his cheek. "I think I have two out in the shed."

"Could I have one?"

"You can have them both, if you like," his father said. "I haven't messed about with them in years. Why?"

"Just curious," Ron said.


	17. So Much About You

It was a beautiful autumn day, about a month later, when Hermione and Thomas Greene walked on to the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts. She had mixed feelings about being back at the school, too many memories, but McGonagall had been kind enough to let them test their cushioning charm at Hogwarts. If it worked and resulted in fewer player injuries, the next step would be to take it to the professional pitches.

"Are you ready?" Thomas asked.

"Yes," she said.

"Alright then, pick an end and we'll start casting."

She set off toward one of the sets of goalposts but was shocked to find Ron sitting in the lowest row of seats. His wand was was up and he appeared to be doing some spell casting of his own. "What are you doing?" she called up to him.

"Experimenting with a charm. What are you doing?"

She scowled at him. "Same."

"Go on then. I'm not bothered."

She turned around. Part of her wanted to confront him about the other night, but this was neither the time nor the place. Holding her wand out she looked to see Thomas do the same at the other end of the pitch. He gave the start signal and they began casting the spell that would leave a reactive cushion over the entire bottom of the pitch. It would be unnoticeable unless someone fell on it. After a few minutes of casting, Hermione lowered her wand as did Thomas. They joined each other in the center of the pitch.

"Think it worked?" Thomas asked.

"Only one way to find out." Hermione held out her arms and fell backwards. The cushion reacted, and she landed safely, so she reached into her robes and pulled out a box of various sized eggs from an extendable pocket. "Let's go."

They climbed the steps into the stands. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Ron stood watching them. When they reached the top, Hermione opened the box, and they each took an egg and tossed it on to the pitch. The cushion reacted perfectly. They chose progressively larger eggs until they each held an ostrich egg and launched them at different parts of the pitch at the same time. Then they climbed back down to check their results. Hermione couldn't help noticing that Ron was now leaning on the railing watching them, whatever project he was working on abandoned. _Typical,_ she thought.

She and Thomas collected all the eggs. None were broken or even cracked. They picked up the last one at the end of the pitch where Ron was standing.

Thomas said, "I guess it's time for the real test."

"Right," Hermione said, and reached into her extendable pocket for the broom she'd brought.

"Hang on!" Ron shouted. He put his hand on the railing and swung his legs over, landing on his feet. He jogged over to them. "What are you planning on doing with that?"

"None of your business," Hermione snapped.

"Someone has to fly up and fall from a broom at various heights," Thomas said, ignoring Hermione's irritated glare. "She drew the short straw."

"No way. I'll do it," Ron said, reaching for the broom.

"Absolutely not," Hermione said, holding on.

Ron held tight. "Don't be ridiculous," he said. "You're terrible on a broom."

Hermione frowned. "I think I can manage to fall off one."

"You'll hurt yourself," Ron said.

"No, I won't. The cushion charm works."

"If you made it, I'm sure it does," Ron conceded. "But you don't know how to fall. When I played Quidditch, they taught us how to fall to minimize injuries."

"The cushion will minimize injuries," Hermione argued.

"He's got a point," Thomas interjected. "Falling wrong, even on a cushioned surface can result in injury."

Hermione glared at him furiously, but Thomas only smiled pleasantly back, which impressed the hell out of Ron. Apparently, Unspeakables weren't particularly bothered by the ire of their own kind. "Fine," she said, relinquishing the broom. "Go on then."

"What do you need me to do?"

"Easy," Thomas said. "Just fly up twenty feet and fall and keep doing that every twenty feet until you reach a hundred."

"Alright," Ron said, straddling the broom.

"Be careful," Hermione couldn't help saying.

Ron winked at her. "I'm not worried. I know you can fix anything that might break." He pushed off the ground, flew up twenty feet and dropped off the broom. Hermione felt her heart lurch. It was all she could do not to cast an arresting charm to stop his fall, but the cushion worked, and he bounced up unharmed.

"That's brilliant," Ron said. "Kind of fun actually." He bent to pick up the broom that had fallen next to him and was soon in the air again, this time flying to forty feet before dropping off the broom. It was another success. Hermione winced every time he hit the cushion but was pleased that it kept working. Finally, he flew up to a hundred feet. Without fanfare, he dropped off the broom as he had the other times. The cushion caught him as before, and he bounced back up on to his feet. "Bloody brilliant!" He went to hug Hermione, but she backed away as he approached, knowing what he intended.

"That was excellent," Thomas said, thrusting out his hand. Ron shook it, but he only had eyes for Hermione.

"Fantastic idea," Ron said. "How'd you think of that?"

"Viktor took a bad spill at the European Cup. And, you know, Harry broke his wrist second year."

"Right," Ron said. "How is Viktor?"

"Fine. He's been in Wales on away games the past couple of days, but he's home tonight."

"Great," Ron said. "He must be pleased with all this."

"He doesn't know yet," Hermione said. "It hasn't been released, but it should be soon, given today's results."

"Great," Ron repeated, his eyes bored through her like he was searching for something, which made Hermione intensely uncomfortable.

"How is…was her name Ivy?" Hermione asked, trying to be polite, and put the conversation back on him.

"I have no idea," Ron said. "We aren't together anymore. Last I heard, she'd met some Italian bloke and moved to Milan."

"Oh," Hermione said. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Ron shrugged. "I'm not. Good for her."

"Okay then," Hermione said awkwardly. She looked at Thomas. "We should go."

"Righto," Thomas said. He pulled his wand and said to Ron, "Thanks again for all your help." He Disapparated before Ron could respond.

"Hermione—"

She cut him off. "I've got to go. Thanks for your help." She pulled her wand and disappeared.

xXx

When she landed in the alley next to the Ministry, Thomas was waiting for her. "All right there, Granger?" he asked affably.

"I'm fine, but you shouldn't have allowed Ron to test the cushion."

"Why not? He wanted to, and we both knew it worked."

"That's not the point."

"Then what is the point?" Thomas asked, as they stepped into the telephone box that would take them down to the Department of Mysteries.

"It was excruciating."

Thomas shook his head. "No, it wasn't. He was fine."

"For me."

Thomas cocked his head. "I don't understand."

"No, you don't." She rested a palm against the side of the elevator to steady herself.

"Hermione," Thomas said gently. "We're partners. We do very dangerous things together. If you have a problem with what happened today, you need to explain it to me. I'm pretty bright, I'll understand."

She closed her eyes. She knew he was right. "At the end of the war, in the final battle, I was injured."

"Yes," Thomas said. "I read about that. You and Weasley both were badly hurt."

"Right," she said. "But I was hurt first. My leg was badly broken. I couldn't get up. I killed the Death Eater that cursed me and it…rattled me. Ron and Harry were fighting in another corridor but their fight found me. One of the Death Eaters cast a curse at me and Ron dove to intercept it. It caught him in the face, a tremendous blow that knocked him unconscious. He fell on top of me. Seeing him fall over and over today was…"

"Excruciating?" Thomas finished for her.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I thought you were just being stubborn. His reasoning for doing the falling seemed sound to me."

"It was," Hermione admitted. "But seeing him take a fall for me, even one I know won't hurt him…that was very hard to watch."

"I understand. If we're in a situation where I think you're just being stubborn again, I'll make sure to have your motives clear. Fair?"

"Yes. Thank you."

They stepped off the elevator into the Department of Mysteries. Aside from her first week, Hermione didn't think too much about what had happened there fifth year, but she felt tension crawling up her spine as she walked through the black tiled chamber past the Hall of Prophecies and its vast but now far emptier shelves, the Love Room and its Amortentia fountain, and into the Space Room, where her office was. The scar on her chest ached more than usual, but she was fairly certain that was psychosomatic. Thomas followed along behind her. "Are you staying tonight? I was thinking about getting some takeout and settling in. I had a thought about my Time-Turner project while we were at the pitch.

"No, sorry. Viktor and I are meeting friends for dinner. I just need to pick up a couple of things from my office, and then I need to go."

"Next time then. Cheerio," Thomas said and went into his office.

Hermione stepped into her office and glanced at the clock. She was running late. She quickly changed into dress robes and looked in the mirror over the tiny sink in her rooms. She cast the elaborate spells to straighten her hair and followed that up with some Sleekeazy's Hair Potion to hold it and then cast the spell to put it up in a French twist. She looked at the clock again and hurried back to the elevator.

xXx

When she reached the restaurant, Bobo's Italian Café, Viktor was talking to the host. Oliver and several other teammates were waiting outside with their dates. The restaurant was in the Muggle community, but also catered to the magical population. The owner, Bobo, was magical, but had married a Muggle and had a Squib daughter, who had married a Muggle, but then had two magical sons. He kept his restaurant open to both worlds with separate entrances and dining rooms. His daughter managed the Muggle half.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked as she approached Oliver. "I thought you'd all be inside by now."

Viktor walked up at the same time she did. "There was an error with the reservation. They cannot seat a party this large until ten o'clock."

"Bloody hell," Oliver muttered. "I'm starving."

"We could try to go somewhere else," Hermione said.

Viktor shook his head. "On Friday night? We will never get in anywhere with this many people."

Oliver looked at Hermione. "Can't you do something?"

She shook her head. "I don't like to do that."

"Come on," Oliver said.

"What is he talking about?" Viktor asked.

Hermione sighed. "I could ask for Harry's table."

Everyone looked at her with hopeful expressions.

"Fine," she said, and reached up to undo her hair.

"What are you doing?" Viktor said.

"I need to look like me to do this, don't I?"

Viktor was taken aback. "You do look like you."

She frowned at him. "No, I don't." She uttered a simple spell and her hair fell in a cascade of ringlets down her back. She took a deep breath and went inside.

Walking past the host, she went directly to the owner. "Hello, Bobo."

"Hermione!" Bobo hugged her. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm here with Viktor Krum's party. There was a mix up with our reservation, and I was wondering if Harry is using his table."

"It's not Harry's table," Bobo said with a sad smile. "You and Ron have access too. It's the Golden Trio table. I can seat you now."

"Thank you," Hermione said. "I'll go get everyone."

She stepped back outside. "They're seating us."

As they all walked through the restaurant to a private room in the back, heads turned.

"Why did we not just reserve this from the start?" Viktor whispered as they walked.

"You'll see." She stopped before entering the room and gestured everyone else inside ahead of her.

When Viktor first stepped into the room the wall was a mosaic of magical photographs. There were so many it was difficult to pick out a theme, but then he realized they were all from Hogwarts and most especially Gryffindor. When Oliver stepped into the room a photograph of him on his broom and wearing Gryffindor colors expanded to poster-size on one wall.

"Welcome, welcome," Bobo said. "Take a seat and your menus will appear." As everyone began taking their seats, Viktor realized Hermione was still standing outside the room. Bobo hugged her as he left. "It's so good to see you, my dear."

"It's good to see you too," Hermione said, hugging him back. Viktor saw her take a deep breath as Bobo left. When she stepped over the threshold, seven more photographs enlarged and joined Oliver's. Everyone at the table looked up. She cleared her throat. "All the photographs you see here are by Colin Creevey. He was a year below us in Gryffindor House and quite the shutterbug. Bobo was his grandfather. Colin died in the war and Bobo dedicated this room to his hobby. Whenever a Gryffindor that's pictured in any of the photographs comes in, their photos expand. She took her seat and a menu appeared before her, but she'd lost her appetite.

Viktor studied the enlarged photos around the room. He was surprised to see one of him with her. It was taken from a distance and captured a private moment between them. They were down by the lake. The sun was starting to set as he leaned down to kiss her over and over again. He smiled to see how young they both looked and the blush across her cheek as she kissed him back. The next photo was taken in the common room. She and Harry and Ron were sitting around in their pajamas, books open all around them, but they didn't seem to be studying much, since they were all laughing. In another, she was on her own, reading outside. There was another of the three of them walking back from Hogsmeade in the snow. She said something to Ron, and from the expression on her face, Viktor knew she was cross. Ron put snow down the back of her coat and she chased him out of the photo. In another photo, she was surrounded by other students in what looked like some kind of training room. She cast her Patronus and a silver otter danced around her. Her delight at being able to cast it was all over her face. In another training room photo, she and Harry were demonstrating a shield charm. The final photo was another private moment but between her and Ron. He lay in a hospital bed looking sunken-eyed and pale. She was sitting in a chair beside him, but leaned over, so her head and torso rested on the bed next to him. She was asleep. Briefly waking, Ron rested his hand in her hair before closing his eyes again. It was painfully intimate. Viktor noticed Hermione didn't lift her eyes to the wall at all during dinner. She couldn't look at her past, and it worried him.

When dinner was over, Viktor and Hermione were the last to leave the room. He stopped at the image of them kissing by the lake. "I have never seen this photograph. I like it. Do you think I could get a copy?"

For the first time all night, Hermione looked at the wall and stared intently at the photograph of her fifteen-year-old self with a then eighteen-year-old Viktor. "I'll ask Bobo."

Bobo came into the room then. "You enjoyed your evening?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "Everything was delicious, as always."

"Good, good," the older wizard said, rubbing his hands together. "I'm so glad."

"Bobo," Hermione said. "Would it be possible for me to get a copy of this photo?"

Bobo nodded. "Of course, of course. I will send it to you tomorrow."

"Thank you," she said and kissed his cheek.

"Have a wonderful evening," he said in response.

Viktor followed her out into the night. They walked the three blocks back to his flat in silence but holding hands. A light rain started to fall. Hermione didn't bother to cast a charm to keep them dry, so Viktor did.

When they finally returned to his flat, he took her cloak and hung it on the rack by the door. "Are you alright?" he asked.

Without answering, she went into the kitchen and got a bottle of Ogden's and poured herself a stiff drink.

"Hermione?"

She swallowed some of her drink and said, "He had no right to take most of those photos."

"What?"

"Colin, he was such a little voyeur. You should see what happens when Harry walks into that room. There must be forty pictures of him that expand and pop out. I don't know if Colin was practicing being paparazzi or if he was in love with Harry. Of course, we can't ask him because he's dead, the little perv." Tears filled her eyes. She swallowed more whiskey. "What was he doing taking that picture of us by the lake? He never sold it to the _Prophet,_ so what was the point?"

Viktor shook his head. "I do not know. Perhaps he was like Todor and photos were how he made sense of the world."

Hermione looked at him. "How does a photo of you and me having a snog make sense of Colin's world?"

Viktor shrugged.

"They were just kids, Colin and Dennis. Murdered, and for what? They were born to non-magical parents. As if that was anyone's fault. Senseless, just senseless slaughter. There are so few of us, why were we killing each other? It was just hastening our own demise."

"I know," Viktor said.

She poured more whiskey in her glass. Viktor opened his mouth to suggest she rethink that but then closed it. He watched her drink for a moment. "That photo of you and Ron—"

"Oh, please," she said in frustration. "Don't get weird or jealous about that—"

"I am not. I was wondering when it was taken. It could not have been after the war because you are not injured."

She sighed. "Sorry, right, you're not the jealous sort. It was sixth year. He'd been poisoned. Harry's quick thinking saved him with a bezoar, but he was quite ill for a while."

"And you stayed with him?"

"Madam Pomphrey wouldn't let me, so I left when visiting hours were over and then snuck back in, slept there all night, and then snuck out in the morning. I couldn't stand the thought of him in there alone and vulnerable."

"You were a very good girlfriend," Viktor said, smiling at her.

"I wasn't his girlfriend then."

Viktor raised his eyebrows.

"We didn't get together until months later." She shook her head. "It was complicated."

"Oh," Viktor said. "I assumed you were dating before that."

Hermione let out a soft snort. "What dating? We never dated. We were friends, and then we were lovers. There was a war on and we were wanted fugitives. After the war we were recovering. Then we moved in together and things fell apart. There was no dating."

"That's too bad." He smiled at her. "You are a good date, interesting and up for anything. He missed out."

She shrugged. "Somehow, I doubt he sees it that way."

Viktor took the whiskey glass from her and set it on the counter. "Then he is an idiot."

Hermione smiled as he leaned in for a kiss. Viktor was right. Ron was an idiot. When he broke the kiss, he smiled at her. "You have a birthday soon, yes?"

"I guess I do." She'd forgotten all about her birthday.

"Twenty-one, right?"

She nodded. "There's no need to make a fuss though."

"As it happens, Greece is thinking of putting together a Quidditch team. I have been asked to speak to the coach and tour their training facility. We could combine that with your birthday and do a tour."

"Really?" Hermione said, delighted. "That sounds fun."

"Good. I will make arrangements then. Do you want it to be just us or should I invite anyone else?"

"Invite Pietra and Todor if you like." Hermione's attention had already shifted to the day's post.

"I could ask them, of course, but I was thinking perhaps you might like to ask Harry and his wife."

Hermione looked up from the letter she was looking at. "What? No. I don't think so."

"Why not? I thought you wanted to reconnect."

"I can't ask them."

"Why not?" Viktor asked.

"Because we've never even been out to dinner with them as a couple. I can't ask them to vacation with us."

Viktor shrugged. "Why? I know Harry. I am sure his wife is nice. What is the problem? We will get a big suite or completely different rooms, whatever you prefer."

Hermione sighed. "Look, it's kind of you to offer, but no. It's too weird. Ginny is Ron's sister." She shook her head. "Invite Todor and Pietra. We have a good time with them."

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "All right but perhaps we should invite Harry and his wife to dinner."

"Sure." She knew she wouldn't do that. Having Harry and Ginny over for dinner at Viktor's flat would be too weird and even weirder to have them over to her parents' place. The last time Ginny had been there had been to help clean up after Hermione's parents were murdered and the last time Harry had been there was disastrous. As much as she hated the thought, it was probably best to just let go. They were still going to see each other at public events. Perhaps that was enough. It was clear to her that she would never be able to normalize things with Ron. He seemed to want to pretend that she'd left him for no reason, and that she was just being difficult about the whole thing. Part of her wondered if he'd forgotten that whole last night. Maybe he had, but surely, he hadn't forgotten the entirety of the last few months of their relationship. The situation built over time, even if he blanked out that last horrible night, he should still know why she left, so he was being willfully obtuse about the whole thing. It made her furious and hurt her deeply that he refused to apologize. If he didn't want to tell anyone else what had happened between them, that was his business, but to act toward her as though he'd done nothing to drive her away was inexcusable. He'd told her to go. She shook her head. It all still felt so raw. There was no way she could get through a dinner much less a vacation with Harry and Ginny without blurting out the truth, and she didn't want to do that. She returned her attention to the mail.

Viktor sighed. "I will leave that up to you then. I will send a letter to Todor and Pietra about Greece."

"That sounds good." A letter caught her eye. "Speaking of Todor and Pietra." She held up the elaborate envelope. "I bet I know what this is."

Viktor grinned and reached for the envelope that was addressed to both of them. "Finally." He opened the invitation and held it up for Hermione to see. "They're getting married next October."

She smiled back at him. "I'll clear my calendar."

"This has been a long time coming," Viktor said. "I'm so happy for them."

Hermione nodded. "Me too."

xXx

The next morning when the owls arrived with the post, Hermione noticed a large envelope from Bobo. She opened it to find a copy of the photo of her and Viktor. He had already left for work, but he'd be pleased to see it when he got home. She thought about their conversation last night and how casual he'd been about her relationship with Ron. He didn't appear to have a jealous bone in his body. She sighed. How different from Ron.

When Bobo had first put the private room together, he'd invited the three of them to come to dinner on the house. Harry had brought Ginny and the four of them had gone out for their first real date after the war. When the pictures originally popped out, there were so many of Harry that the one of her and Viktor got lost in the shuffle so no one noticed it at first, but as dinner went on, Ron noticed. He'd actually dropped his fork. Hermione had tried to play it off, but she knew he was fuming inside. When they finally made it back to their flat over his brothers' shop, he let loose, shouting at her about her sneaking around as though the photo had been taken last week and not years ago when they weren't even a couple. She'd let him rant, recognizing that it had more to do with how disoriented he still was from his injuries and less to do with the photo. In retrospect, perhaps that hadn't been the right choice. Maybe she should have argued with him and told him what a prat he was being, because once he'd ranted himself out, he'd stormed down to the pub, where he spent most nights after that. She shook her head to clear away the memories. There was no sense going over the past. What was done, was done.

xXx

Three weeks later, Hermione stood on the terrace of a villa on a Greek island in the Mediterranean. The ocean was azure blue and the air was still warm even in October. The island was owned by the wizard who was putting together the new Greek Quidditch team, and Viktor and Hermione had it all to themselves until Todor and Pietra arrived.

Viktor came outside and handed her a gin and tonic. "What do you think?"

"It's beautiful."

"The Greek team was very grateful for my help. This was their owner's way of saying thanks."

"It's a good way." Hermione smiled at him before sipping her drink.

"I think so too."

She sighed contentedly and decided to change the subject. She needed to talk to him about the Quidditch pitch cushion. She wasn't sure why she'd put it off, she'd been free to talk about it for a few days. "Viktor, about Quidditch..."

He raised his eyebrows.

"There's something I should tell you."

He looked at her expectantly.

"Remember when I said I had a second project at work, a smaller project?"

"Yes."

"Right, well, I completed it, and I've been given permission to release it under my own name since it's not really within the scope of the Department of Mysteries. Anyway, I've got a meeting with the International Quidditch Association board next week."

His eyes went wide. "What is the project?"

"It's a cushion."

Viktor cocked his head. "A cushion?"

She smiled at him. "Yes. It's a reactive cushion that covers the entire pitch, so that if a player falls off a broom the cushion will help prevent injuries."

He frowned. "How thick is it? Won't that prevent tactics like the Wronski Feint?"

"No. I know that's one of your signature moves, so I designed it to only be a few millimeters thick unless contact is actually made."

"It's been tested?"

"Yes. They've been using it at Hogwarts for the last three weeks, and they're thrilled with it. I'll be meeting the IQA board at the school Quidditch pitch so they can see it in action. I expect they'll like it. It should save them a lot of Galleons in injuries."

"And you're sure it won't interfere with games?" Viktor said skeptically.

"It shouldn't, but I'm sure they'll want to do a trial run with a professional team. I was rather hoping that would be Puddlemere United."

Viktor's eyes widened. "Um…"

"Just during practice to start. Pros play a lot differently than kids or club teams do. You're the real test."

He took a deep breath. "I suppose I could ask the coach."

She slipped her hand under his T-shirt and up his chest. "I'd really appreciate that."

He gave her slow smile. "How much would you appreciate it?"

She smiled back at him. "Very much."

He chuckled and leaned in to kiss her.

xXx

Hermione woke at four o'clock the next morning. What had started on the terrace had finished in bed and they'd both fallen asleep by eight o'clock. Viktor was still sound asleep next to her. He'd had a grueling practice schedule lately and really needed the break. She slipped out of bed as quietly as she could and held out her hand for her dressing gown and wand. They both came sailing at her as she stepped out of the room closing the door behind her. The villa was an open floor plan with a central great room that encompassed the kitchen, dining room, and living area that was surrounded by four bedrooms each with ensuite bathrooms. The kitchen was separated from the living and dining areas by a long bar. The living area opened on to the terrace which was wider than the house and overlooked the sea. She didn't want to risk waking Viktor by taking a shower, so she cast a cleaning charm instead and went into the kitchen to make tea. It was still dark outside, so she took candles along with some parchment and a quill to work at the kitchen table until Viktor got up. She'd dreamed about Apparition, and had some ideas she wanted to record before they slipped away from her.

xXx

Viktor found her there a few hours later. The sun was coming up and the parchment was full of long columns of Arithmancy as well as extensive notes. He stepped behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders as he leaned over and looked at the parchment. "Are you working? We are on holiday."

She set down her quill and rolled up the parchment. "It's nothing. I just had some ideas I wanted to get down on paper."

He sat down next to her. "That is a lot of math. Is this about that Apparition trick with the map?"

She frowned at him. "The map trick you've never seen me do?"

He smiled at her. "Yes, that one."

She pursed her lips and looked at him for a moment. "No. I didn't get permission to pursue that. It's too difficult."

"I do not understand. I saw you do it."

"No, you didn't," she said with a frown. "But even if you did, only about half of us could do it. All Unspeakables have to be able to perform a piece of practical magic for it to get approval to move forward."

"Oh. You are very powerful then."

"We're all very powerful, but we each have aspects of magic that we're particularly good at. I'm very gifted at Apparition for example, but not that great at other things."

"Like what?"

She sighed. "Well, you know I'm bad on a broom."

"Right," he said, "but what else? It seems to me that you can do anything you like."

"No. I'm not great at Legilimency. I can manage it a bit, but I have a hard time interpreting what I see. I'm a little better at Occlumency, but again, not great."

"Is that all? Three things?"

She snapped her fingers and a cigarette appeared, which she lit with another snap. "There are other things I've never tried doing because they're associated with the dark arts."

Viktor leaned back in his chair. "What about charms?"

She blew out a long stream of smoke. "I've yet to come across a charm I can't do."

He smiled. "And transfiguration?"

"Same."

"How many languages do you speak?" he asked.

"Fluently? Four. You?"

"Seven. What about potions? You seem to make most of them rather than buy them."

"I'm good at potions, but more through study rather than any kind of innate affinity for the subject. Had things not worked out with the Department of Mysteries, I doubt I would have gone for potioneer. I've never created a potion. I've always used a recipe. I mostly make my own, because I can, and it's so expensive to buy them."

"Very thrifty. What would you have done?"

"I'm not sure, but probably the Ministry's regular Research and Development Department."

"Really? There is a lot of money to be made in charmed objects."

"I know, but money isn't much of a motivator for me. I think I'd get bored doing that kind of work long term."

He paused and thought for a minute. "Did you even get to graduate?"

McGonagall allowed me to complete my studies in the hospital while I recovered. She was very kind and brought me books and administered the exams for me. What's with the quiz?"

He shrugged. "I sometimes feel like I do not know so much about you."

Hermione was taken aback. "What do you mean? We talk all the time."

"About things, not so much about us."

"Okay."

He rested a hand on hers. "That is not a complaint. Only an observation."

"I'm not sure what you mean."

He squeezed her hand and leaned forward. "All I am saying is that we do not talk much about the past or the future. Always it is right now."

"What's wrong with living in the moment?" Hermione asked, starting to get irritated. "I don't want to be bogged down in the past, and who knows what the future holds? We're here right now. Why can't that be enough?"

He gave her a sad smile and kissed her hand. "It is enough. Forget I said anything." He went back inside.

Hermione watched him go and sighed. She didn't understand what he wanted from her. They were having fun. The beginning of their relationship had been so traumatic, she was enjoying the relative calm of just being in the moment, but he clearly wanted more. She stubbed out her cigarette and went back inside. "Viktor?"

He looked up from making coffee.

"It's never been my intention to make you feel like I'm hiding anything or avoiding anything."

"I know," he said. "But you work so much and you cannot talk about it. If you cannot talk about work, and you do not talk about the past or the future…" He shrugged.

She sat down on one of the barstools. "I have talked to you about the past. You know how I got the scars and I answered the questions you and Oliver asked about my childhood. I've talked about the war with you. What more do you want from me?"

He sighed and leaned over the counter toward her. "Just conversation."

She sighed. There they were in that lovely home overlooking the ocean and it wasn't enough for him. "Look, I may not have engaged in a lot of girl talk when I was at school, but one thing I do remember is that you're not supposed to talk about your ex."

Viktor smiled. "I am not asking you to tell me about your relationship with Ron. I do not care about that."

"You don't understand, it's impossible to talk about anything significant that happened to me in the last decade without talking about Ron. Ron and Harry were my best friends. We did most things together. Significant things and little things. Everything. I can't talk about me without talking about them."

Viktor cocked his head and looked at her with obvious disbelief. "Everything?"

"We met on the train to school the first day. Our first year, I made Polyjuice potion for them. I set a teacher's cloak on fire for them."

The alarm on Viktor's face was comical. "You did not!"

"I did. I also corrected all their homework and studied with them every day, and in turn they dragged me away from my books for fresh air and sunshine and made me laugh. When Harry's destiny became our destiny, it gave me a sense of purpose. My story is their story. Their story is mine. It's impossible to separate. I suppose I could tell you about vacations with my parents, but it's hard to talk about them too. I'm not deliberately holding anything back. It's just not easy."

He rubbed a hand down his face. "And the future?"

"What future? Are we guaranteed a future? From what I've seen of life, it's a waste of time to plan too far ahead. Every time I've felt like I was on solid footing the rug got pulled out from under me. I can't think about the future right now. All I can manage is today and maybe as far out as a month from now. Anything more just seems pointless." He gave her a sympathetic smile and she wanted to punch him in the face. She didn't need his pity. "I'm going to get in the shower."

He nodded. "Okay."


	18. Everything is Art

Viktor and Hermione didn't talk much for the next two days. They went on a boat tour of Santorini and then spent the day on the island. The next day they went to Crete for a tour of ancient Minoan magical culture. They were both happy when Todor and Pietra showed up, but almost immediately something felt off. Pietra was unusually quiet and when she did speak it was minimally. The morning after they arrived, Viktor and Todor went to the other side of the island to fish off the pier and Hermione went out on to the balcony to read.

xXx

It wasn't long after the men left that Pietra made an appearance. She came out on to the balcony and stood in front of Hermione. "I need to speak with you."

Hermione looked up from her book and set it aside. "All right."

Pietra blew out a calming breath. "As you know, Todor and I are getting married."

Hermione smiled broadly. "Yes. We got the invitation. We've already RSVP'd."

"Yes," Pietra was clearly struggling to stay calm. "So, my future mother-in-law wanted some of Todor's photographs to put up at the wedding. Photos of us. She felt that since we've known each other so long that it would be fun for people to look at those at the reception."

"That sounds like a good idea," Hermione said.

"It's ridiculously early to be pulling those together, but like Todor, she has a certain aesthetic, so she wanted to have them early, so she could put them together in various ways to… who cares? She wanted them. Todor was away doing a portrait in Vidin, so I let myself into his studio."

Hermione was starting to feel very uncomfortable. She didn't know where this was going and it worried her.

"While I was there," Pietra continued, "I thought to check his hidey-hole."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "His what?"

"Where he used to keep his stash. He doesn't know I know where it is, but I do. I just wanted to see if he had anything in there. I needed to know if he'd really left the drugs behind for good."

"Okay," Hermione said slowly.

"The good news is, I didn't find any heroin."

"That is good."

Pietra reached into her pocket and threw two photos on the table. "The bad news is I found these instead."

Hermione felt her heart sink and her guts churn. "Pietra," she whispered. The top photo was the one Todor took of her pregnant the day she and Viktor were attacked in Sophia. The other, which Hermione had never seen, was taken in Todor's studio when she was staying with him while Viktor recovered in the hospital. She was asleep in Todor's bed under the covers. Even asleep her expression was troubled, but her shoulders were bare, leaving the impression that she was naked beneath the covers.

"When the hell were you pregnant?" Pietra said. "Did you have an affair with Todor?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. This isn't what it looks like."

"Then what the hell is it?" Pietra's face was red with anger.

"You should ask Todor," Hermione said quietly.

"I'm asking you. Witch to witch. Did you sleep with him?"

"No," Hermione lied. "Of course not. That's not what this is about."

Pietra sat across from her. "Then tell me."

Hermione took a deep breath and did what she'd done so many times before under pressure. She lied. The second lie slipped from her lips so easily it could have been true. "I was pregnant shortly after Viktor and I got back together." She shrugged. "Reignited passion can get away from you. It wasn't intentional, but I wasn't willing to terminate. I don't have any family, I couldn't waste the chance to…" She shook her head, trying to keep her emotions in check. She cleared her throat. "Viktor asked Todor to take the picture. Then we were going to get a marriage license. Viktor wanted us married before we went back to England."

"That sounds like him," Pietra commented.

"Yes, but…" Tears filled Hermione's eyes and she pressed a hand to her mouth to try and regain her composure. After a moment she continued. "But then we were attacked, and I lost the baby."

"I'm so sorry," Pietra said. "I didn't know." There was a long pause before she continued. "And the other photo?"

"I've never seen it before," Hermione said. "But it had to have been taken when I stayed with Todor while Viktor was still in the hospital. It would have been the first night."

"And you're naked because?" There was a threatening edge to Pietra's tone.

Hermione closed her eyes. "Because I came into the hospital without clothes and they discharged me in just a gown. There was blood on it." She shook her head. "He got me cleaned up and put me to bed. It wasn't…there was nothing sexy about it."

Silence hung heavy between them for a moment as Pietra absorbed this new information. "But he took a photo."

"I wasn't aware that he'd done that."

"And he kept them hidden. Why would he do that?"

 _Why indeed?_ Hermione thought, and then a plausible explanation occurred to her. "Insurance perhaps."

"Insurance for what?" Pietra asked, clearly confused.

Hermione sighed. "Money. That picture of me pregnant would be worth a small fortune to _Witch Weekly_. Even the other photo of me asleep would be worth something. He probably kept them in case he ever needed quick cash."

Pietra shook her head. "He wouldn't do that."

"He wouldn't if he were sober, but if he was desperate for a fix, he might. Who knows when he put them in there? He may have completely forgotten he did that."

"You think?"

Hermione shrugged. "I think you should ask him. And then I want the photos and the negatives."

"Of course," Pietra said. "I will talk to him when they get back. This is very troubling."

Hermione stood. "I'm going to get in the shower."

Pietra nodded. As Hermione started to walk away Pietra called her name and she turned around.

"I'm so sorry…about what happened to you."

"Me too." Hermione walked calmly into her bedroom and locked the door behind her before turning on the shower. She pulled her wand and promptly Disapparated.

When she landed on the pier a moment later, she marched straight for Todor.

"Hermione?" Viktor said, as she passed him without so much as a glance in his direction.

Todor turned around to see what was going on and she smacked him hard across the face. "You stupid, perverted git! I should curse you into next week."

Todor put a hand to his cheek. "What the hell?"

"Hermione what's going on?" Viktor asked.

"He kept that picture of me pregnant, and he took another one of me sleeping in his bed. Pietra found them and thought we'd had an affair."

A dark look crossed Viktor's features. "You what?" he said to Todor.

"It's not what you think," Todor pleaded. "What did you say to Pietra?"

"What could I say?" Hermione hissed.

All the color drained from Todor's face. "You swore you wouldn't tell her about Amsterdam."

"I didn't, you idiot!" Hermione shouted. "But I had to tell her something so I suggested you might have kept them to sell at some point if you needed money."

Todor's mouth dropped open. "I would never do such a thing!"

"Then why did you keep them?" Viktor asked angrily.

Todor ran a hand down his face and paced back and forth across the short end of the pier. "I...it was my baby. That was all I had."

Hermione shook her head. "Dammit Todor!"

"And the second photo?" Viktor said.

"Closed the loop?"

"What?" Hermione said, completely exasperated with him.

"The first photo is of potential, the second of loss. Both are beautiful in their own way."

Hermione shoved him with both hands. "I'm not an art project!"

"Everything is art," Todor said quietly.

She shoved him again. "Fuck you!" She turned and started back down the pier.

"You idiot," Viktor growled.

"It could have been worse," Todor said. "She didn't raise her wand to me."

Without turning around Hermione flung her arm back and Todor went sailing out over the water and dropped with a huge splash. When he resurfaced a moment later, Hermione was gone.

Viktor reached down to help him out of the water. "Idiot," he said grimly.

Todor pulled his wand out of his pocket and cast a charm to dry his clothes. "It could have been worse."

Viktor looked at him. "How?"

Todor averted his eyes. "There are some other photos we should talk about."

xXx

When Hermione reappeared back in their bedroom, she undressed and got in the shower. The warm water was a comfort as she rested her forehead against the cool tile and let the tears come. She was furious with Todor, but she also understood why he'd kept the photos. She'd cried herself to sleep every night while Viktor was in the hospital and every night Todor would curl up behind her, hold her tight, and cry too. It was a loss they shared no matter how problematic the conception had been. She heard the bathroom door open and Viktor say, "Hermione?"

She wiped her face. "Yeah."

He stepped into the shower and slid his hands around her waist. "I am sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"But I am still sorry." He kissed her shoulder.

She turned around in his arms and kissed him. "We should probably go down to the beach and give them some privacy to hash this out."

He looked surprised. "You do not want to go home?"

"No. Do you?" It was her turn to be surprised. "I think it would be worse if we went home, don't you? They're our friends. This is awkward but not insurmountable, right?"

He sighed. "She has tolerated so much from him. I hope this is not the last straw on the camel."

She chuckled.

"I did not get that right?"

"Close. It's either the last straw or the straw that broke the camel's back, but not both."

He smiled. "English idioms are hard."

She looked down between them. "Hard is good."

He nodded and pressed her back against the wall.

xXx

Viktor and Hermione spent the rest of the day on the beach, waiting to go back in until the sun started to set. When they finally went back to the villa, Todor was alone on the balcony looking out at the waves crashing against the shore.

"Where is Pietra?" Viktor asked, fearing she'd left.

"She went for a walk to clear her head. She is very upset with me."

"What did you tell her?" Hermione asked.

"I confirmed your suspicions, but I told her I put those pictures away, before I was really clean, and that I forgot about them. In the end, I think she believed me, but she is still very upset that I would even consider selling them."

Hermione frowned. "Perhaps she would've been better off with the truth."

Todor shook his head. "No. That would have been much worse. For me to have gotten you pregnant," he shook his head again. "She would never have forgiven me for that no matter the circumstances. This she will get past."

Hermione nodded. "Okay."

Below they could see Pietra on the beach walking back toward the villa. "Why don't you and I make dinner?" Viktor suggested to Hermione.

"That sounds good," she said, although she couldn't help wondering how dinner would go with Todor and Pietra on the outs with each other. She wondered if they would stay for the rest of the week? When Pietra came in, she didn't say anything and went into their bedroom and closed the door behind her.

Viktor grilled steaks and Hermione baked potatoes and put together a tossed salad. When they had everything on the table, he looked at Todor who went and knocked on the door of the room he shared with Pietra. Viktor poured wine for everyone but Todor. A few moments later, Todor came out of the bedroom and closed the door behind him.

"Is she joining us?" Hermione asked.

Todor shrugged. "I told her dinner was ready. She didn't say anything. We should probably go ahead and eat."

As they took their seats, the bedroom door opened and Pietra came out and sat down. "Thank you for making dinner," she said.

Viktor began to pass around the food.

Pietra mechanically took some of everything handed to her, but as the others began to eat, she just sat there. Hermione felt awful for her. She wished she could have thought of a different less onerous reason that Todor might have kept those photos.

Pietra took a sip of her wine and set it down. "I'm sorry," she said. "We've hijacked your vacation. We should leave in the morning."

"Pietra please," Todor said.

"It's not fair to them. How Hermione can stand to look at you, I don't begin to understand."

"But I can," Hermione said.

Pietra looked at her. "How?"

"I won't pretend I was happy to see those photos, but…" She shook her head. "He's apologized to me. Explained the circumstances. I'm now in possession of both photos and their negatives. No real harm was done. We've all done things we regret and in the grand scheme of things…well…this is forgivable."

Pietra raised her eyebrows. "You're very understanding."

Hermione shrugged. "I wasn't always, but I've done things I'm not proud of."

"We all have," Viktor added.

"Besides," Hermione continued. "He was still using, but he rose to the occasion and came and got me from the hospital and took care of me while we waited for them to release Viktor. So, no, he shouldn't have taken that picture, but he could have left me to fend for myself, so I forgive him. He was there when it counted and that outweighs the photo."

Todor looked on the verge of crying.

Pietra closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment before taking another sip of wine. She looked at Todor. "You don't deserve such good friends."

"I know," he said contritely.

Hermione leaned over and put her hand on Pietra's forearm. "Stay." She smiled. "When are you going to get another chance to enjoy a private island?"

Pietra quirked her lips. "Probably never."

"Then listen to Hermione," Viktor said. "And eat your dinner before it gets cold. It would be a crime not to eat a steak this good."

"Oh great," Todor said. "Now we have to listen to what an incredible cook he is."

"Can I help it if I am a genius with grilling spells?" Viktor said, smiling.

Pietra looked at Hermione. "Do good grilling spells qualify as genius?"

Hermione chuckled. "Not that I'm aware of but Magic is a broad and varied field."

"Of course, they qualify," Viktor said. "I am a genius at many things: flying, dancing, cooking, golf—"

"Golf?" Pietra said in disbelief.

"Oh yes," Viktor said, warming to his subject. "I have learned to play since I moved to England, and not surprisingly, I am brilliant at it."

They all laughed.

"Of course, you are," Todor said, shaking his head.

"Yes!" Viktor said, grinning. "Just the other day, I banked a shot off a Manticore's head for a hole in one."

"Do bank shots count in golf?" Hermione asked. "It's not snooker."

"Any shot that doesn't get you killed counts in Wizard's Golf," Viktor said.

Dinner continued in the same lighthearted vein and tensions eased. The rest of the week was spent sunbathing and fishing, cooking and playing games.


	19. Not Family

By the time they returned to England, both Hermione and Viktor were well rested. Viktor's games were in the UK for the next few weeks. Hermione set her schedule so she could attend the matches and the after parties without having too much of an impact on work. She had a new idea for how to teach Apparition and to make it easier for people to do side-along, but she wasn't ready to present it. She didn't want another incident of presenting something that wouldn't be approved, so she spent most of her time making sure the Arithmancy worked to make the spell as simple to cast as possible.

Two weeks later, she and Viktor went to a house party celebrating Puddlemere United's win over the Chudley Cannons. Although, it was less of a win and more of a mercy killing. They were so far ahead of the Cannon's by the time Viktor caught the Snitch that it was mostly a relief that the slaughter was over. Nonetheless, the party was fun. They'd danced late into the night. As they popped back into his flat, Hermione pulled off her coat and put it on the rack. Viktor wasted no time reaching for her.

"I have wanted you all night," He growled as he pulled her top over her head and left it on the parlor floor. She stepped out of her shoes as he backed her into the bedroom, leaving her bra hanging on the doorknob.

"My goodness, if I'd known that, we could have come home earlier," she teased, running her hands under his shirt and depositing it on the floor. They were both still in their jeans when he pushed her back on the bed. She let herself fall and pulled him with her.

"I do not have training in the morning. Do you have to go into work?"

"I can go in late," she gasped as he ground against her.

"Good. I think we will be up late."

She smiled and pulled him down for a kiss.

"Hermione," Ginny's voice said. "We need you at St. Mungo's right away. Harry's been hurt."

Hermione looked up to see a silver mare standing by the bed. "Get off," she urged Viktor, pushing at his shoulders as she tried to get up. He rolled off her. She shot out of bed, grabbing her bra from the doorknob and pulling it on. She looked around frantically for her shirt, remembered it was in the parlor, and grabbed his T-shirt from the floor and pulled it over her head. "I've got to go," she said grabbing her wand.

"Wait!" Viktor said. "You don't have—"

But she was gone.

xXx

It wasn't until she landed in the hospital waiting area that Hermione realized she was barefoot. "Bollocks," she muttered, but walked up to the reception desk anyway.

The Welcome Witch was writing on a piece of parchment.

Hermione cleared her throat but the witch didn't look up. "I'm here to see Harry Potter."

"You and the rest of the world love," the Welcome Witch said. "Take a seat."

Hermione looked back at the crowded waiting area with its rickety chairs and old magazines. It was full of people, many of whom didn't appear ill or injured in any way. "Look at me," she said firmly. "I'm Hermione Granger, and I'm here to see Harry Potter."

The receptionist glanced up and blinked.

"Hermione," Viktor said from behind her.

Hermione didn't turn to look at him and instead said to the receptionist, "Well?"

"Right," the Welcome Witch said. "Just through those doors. Take the Elevator to the third floor." When Viktor went to follow, the Welcome Witch said, "Excuse me, sir. You'll have to wait."

"He's with me," Hermione said in a tone that brokered no argument. The Welcome Witch sniffed but didn't say anything as Viktor followed Hermione through the doors.

In the elevator, he held out a pair of backless loafers. "I thought you might want these."

"Thank you." She slipped on the shoes. The elevator took them to the third floor, where it appeared most of the Weasley family was gathered. "Hermione's here," George shouted down the hall.

Ginny waved for her to come quickly. As Hermione hurried down the hall past a sea of redheads, Viktor hung back, unsure what he should do. It seemed the right thing to follow her and bring her the shoes, but he wondered if he should go back to his flat. As she walked away from him, he realized her shirt was on inside out. He grimaced. Nothing to be done about that now. He decided to stay. These people were part of Hermione's life and so was he. She would just have to learn to reconcile that.

"Hiya, Viktor," George said, sticking his hand out. "George Weasley."

"Hello." Viktor shook George's hand. "How did Harry get hurt?"

xXx

"What's happened?" Hermione asked Ginny as she walked up.

"Harry went out with the Aurors and got hit with a curse that removed the bones in his right leg."

"Oh no," Hermione said, recalling the agony of re-growing bones that Harry had gone through second year.

"But that's not the real problem," Ginny said. "He fell back into some kind of temporal bomb and lost time."

"Lost time?" Hermione asked.

"What does that mean?" Ron asked as he walked up behind her.

"It means, he thinks it's the height of the war. When he saw me, he freaked out. I'm supposed to be safely tucked away somewhere. He refused to relinquish his wand or be treated until we found you two."

Ron pushed his fingers back through his hair. "Bloody hell."

A healer stepped out of Harry's room, closing the door behind her. Ginny looked at her. "Any luck?"

The healer shook her head. "No. But I see you found them."

"Yes," Hermione said. "What do we need to do?"

The healer handed her a potion. "Get him to drink this. It'll knock him out for ten minutes, but when he wakes up, his timeline will be restored. Then we'll be able to use Skele-Gro to fix his leg."

"You're sure it was a temporal bomb and not a memory charm?" Hermione asked.

"Absolutely. We had one of your kind come out and check to be sure." Healers knew who all the Unspeakables were due to the dangerous and unusual nature of their work.

Hermione nodded. "Right."

"Ginny wiped a stray tear from her cheek. You two need to look like you did during the war. Then you should be able to convince him to take the potion."

"You can use the room across the hall to get ready," the healer said.

"Right," Ron said. He held the door open for Hermione and they both stepped into the empty hospital room. He closed the door behind them and turned to her. "Your shirt is on inside out."

She blushed and turned around and whipped the T-shirt over her head and then back on right side out. When she turned back around Ron grimaced when he saw the Puddlemere United logo. She noticed then that he was wearing a Chudley Cannons shirt. "You were at the match?" she said.

"Yeah," he muttered. "You need to fix your hair."

"You'll need to lose the beard." She pulled her wand and cast the charm to allow her hair to revert to its natural state and then cast the charm to braid it the way she did during the war.

"What about the scar. I didn't have it during the war," Ron said.

"Just glamour over it."

He pulled his wand and cast a shaving charm that left him beardless.

Hermione's breath caught. She wasn't ready to see the scar again or to see him looking like his old self.

Ron looked around. "Can you do it? There's no mirror."

She lifted her wand and for a moment their eyes locked. Mountains of memories stood raw between them until Hermione said the glamour charm that would cover Ron's scar. It was even harder to look at him without it.

"Does it look all right?" Ron asked.

"Perfect," Hermione said in a breathy whisper.

He smiled. "Not surprising since you did it. Go on then. Let's take care of this."

She nodded and followed him into Harry's room, ignoring the looks from his family as they passed through the hall. Harry sat in bed with his wand tightly gripped in his hand. When he saw them an expression of relief came over him. "Where have you two been?"

"We got delayed," Hermione said.

"But we're here now," Ron said.

Harry pointed his wand at them. "Tell me something so I know it's really you."

Hermione sighed. "You and I saved Buckbeak and Sirius with a Time-Turner."

Harry nodded and pointed his wand at Ron.

"Giant spiders chased us through a forest once because Hagrid has weird friends."

That caused Harry to crack a smile, but it quickly faded. "Did you see Ginny? She was here, but it's not safe. She can't be here."

"Mum and Dad came and got her," Ron said smoothly. "She's safe with them now."

"Good, good," Harry muttered. He was sweating and in obvious pain, his right leg was at an awkward angle and flat without it's bones.

"Harry," Hermione said. "You need to drink this, so we can heal you and get out of here."

"Right," Ron said. "We can't stay here. It's not safe."

"But my leg," Harry said.

"Drink this and then we can fix your leg," Hermione said.

"Yeah?" Harry said.

"It'll be okay, mate," Ron said. "Just drink it."

Hermione uncorked the bottle and held it out to him. Harry took it, looked at both of them, and then drank down the contents. He was out so quickly Ron had to catch him to keep him from falling out of bed. He lay Harry gently back against the pillow while Hermione removed the wand from his hand.

"I'll go get Ginny," Ron said.

Hermione nodded. She leaned over and pushed back Harry's fringe and kissed his forehead. When Ron came back in with Ginny a moment later, Hermione handed Ginny Harry's wand.

"Thank you," Ginny said. "Thank you both. He was absolutely bonkers until you two got here."

"How did this happen?" Ron asked.

"He was out with the Aurors breaking up a dragon ring run by some former Death Eaters."

"What the hell was he doing that for?" Ron said.

"He's meant to be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts not doing it," Hermione added.

"I know," Ginny said. "But if the Aurors ask for his help, he goes. He says it makes him a better teacher to keep his hand in."

"And you didn't stop him?" Ron said.

"I'm his wife," Ginny snapped. "Not his keeper. I don't own him."

"Why didn't he ask for help?" Hermione asked.

"He had help. He was with the Aurors."

"She means us," Ron said testily. "Why didn't he ask us?"

Ginny frowned at him. "Do I even have to answer that? Look, he's still Harry Potter. He took out six of their guys before that curse hit his leg and the Death Eaters are on their way to Azkaban. Hagrid, Charlie, and Luna are rounding up the dragons now."

"Luna?" Ron said.

"Yeah," Ginny said.

The healer came in then. "Did he take the potion?"

"Yes," Hermione said.

"Good. I'll go get the Skele-Gro. He's got a long night ahead of him, but we'll put the leg right in the end." She left again.

"Skele-Gro again. He's going to hate that," Ron said.

"It's so much better if they just break the bones," Hermione said.

"No, it isn't," Ron argued. "That bastard broke your leg, and you almost bled to death."

"Yeah," Hermione said. "But it was quick to fix the bone."

"Right, and then you were on blood replenishing potion for months," Ron said.

"It should only have been weeks," Hermione argued.

"That wasn't my fault," Ron said hotly. "I didn't ask you to do that."

"I didn't say you did," Hermione snapped.

"Stop!" Ginny said. "This isn't about you two. Feel free to go home now, but don't stand here arguing."

"Sorry," Hermione said. "I don't want to go home."

"Me neither," Ron grumbled.

"I am going to go have a fag though," Hermione said. "I'll be back in a tic." She left and Ginny stood frowning at Ron.

"What?" Ron said.

"What the hell happened to you two?"

Ron shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged.

xXx

When Hermione stepped back into the hallway, she saw that Bill and Fleur had arrived and Viktor was talking to them.

Fred, Angelina, and George were standing next to the door.

"I need a fag," she said to them. "Is there somewhere I can smoke."

"Down this way," George said. "I'll show you. I could use a ciggy myself."

Hermione followed him down the hall and onto a balcony that ran the length of the building. It was Muggle shielded but looked out over the Thames with a nice view of the London Eye. Hermione realized she didn't have cigarettes with her.

George held out a pack to her and snapped his fingers to light the cigarette she set between her lips. "Rough night?"

Hermione blew out a long stream of smoke. "Yeah."

"Harry doing okay?"

"He's out, but he should wake up in a few minutes with his timeline restored. Then it's just a matter of growing bones."

"That sounds painful," George said.

"It was excruciating last time and that was just his arm."

George nodded. "Oh yeah, that's right. Bloody Lockhart." They stood quietly looking at the twinkling lights of the city beneath them as they smoked. "How are things going with you these days?"

Hermione shrugged. "They're going."

"Can't help noticing you're wearing Viktor's shirt," George added with a twinkle in his eye.

"It was the closest thing to hand," Hermione said dryly.

"Right."

She stubbed out her cigarette. "I should go back in." George nodded but didn't follow her.

She walked down the hall and Viktor touched her arm as she passed him. "You okay?"

She nodded. "I'm just going to check on Harry. I'll be right back."

She took a deep breath before opening the door to Harry's room. She vowed to keep a cool head and not rise to any bait Ron might throw at her. She went to Harry's bedside. He was just starting to stir.

"Harry?" Ginny said, leaning over him.

He barely opened his eyes. "Gin?"

She smiled at him. "Yeah, how are you feeling?"

"Like I've been run over by an Erumpent."

Ginny ruffled his fringe.

Harry looked around to see Ron and Hermione standing on either side of his bed. "What are you two doing here? Wait. Where am I?"

"You're at St. Mungo's," Ginny said gently.

"What? But I was with…where are—?"

"Everything is fine. The mission was successful, but you fell into some kind of temporal bomb, but you're fine now."

"What's wrong with my leg?" Harry asked.

"No bones, mate. But you'll grow 'em back good as new," Ron said.

"Where's your beard?" Harry asked. "How long have I been out?"

"You've only been out a little while. I shaved the beard, but I'm going to grow it back. Using a glamour to cover the scar is too much hassle every day."

Harry looked at Hermione. "Hullo. Haven't seen you in a while." She hugged him and he gave her a questioning look. "Been drinking?" he asked quietly.

"I was at a party," Hermione replied.

"Nice shirt," Harry said, raising an eyebrow.

Hermione blushed. "I just threw on the first thing that came to hand. Ginny said to come right away, so I did." She smiled. "Viktor had to bring me a pair of shoes."

Harry chuckled at that. "Sounds like quite a party."

Ron scowled.

Hermione opened her mouth to explain, but a healer came in then to give Harry his first dose of Skele-Gro.

"Oh, bloody hell," Harry said, grimacing. "That's even worse than I remember."

"Sorry, Mr. Potter," the healer said. "There's nothing to be done about the taste."

"It's fine," Harry said. "Do I have to stay here to take it though? Can't I take it at home?"

"Do you have a house elf that can take you?" the healer asked. "That's the only way I'll allow it." She turned to Ginny. "You'll need to administer the dose every hour."

"Not a problem," Ginny said.

"Dobby!" Harry called.

The little elf appeared and Harry asked him to take him home.

"I'll follow and bring the Skele-Gro," Ginny said.

"Do you need help getting him settled?" Hermione asked.

"That'd be great," Ginny said.

"I'll help you. I'm sure Viktor and Hermione would like to get back to whatever they were doing," Ron said acidly.

Hermione's cheeks grew redder. "I'm fine to help."

"I don't know why you brought him anyway," Ron continued. "It's not like he's family."

"Neither am I," Hermione said quietly.

"That's not true," Harry said.

"But it is," Hermione said with a sad smile. "You'll be fine. Ron's right. I should go." She turned to leave.

"I didn't say you should go. I said Viktor should," Ron corrected.

Hermione looked back at him. "He's with me." She stepped into the hall and was gone.

Harry and Ginny exchanged a look that irritated Ron. He followed Hermione out, but she and Viktor were already entering the elevator when he stepped into the hallway. Without saying anything to the family, he ran down the hall and took the stairs. When he reached the lobby Viktor and Hermione were already gone. "Bloody hell," he muttered and pulled his wand.

xXx

"Hermione!" he shouted as he Apparated into her parents' London townhouse. The house was dark and then he remembered she'd moved into Viktor's flat in Diagon Alley. "Fuck!" he shouted into the empty house. He wanted a drink more than he'd wanted one in months, possibly more than he'd ever wanted one. He did a sweeping gesture with his wand and lit several lamps. Perhaps there was booze in the kitchen. The icebox was empty and no longer had a cooling charm. The cabinets had dinnerware, but there wasn't any food or a stray bottle of whiskey or wine. Ron ran his fingers through his hair and looked around. He wandered through the house, noting the changes since he'd stayed here as a teen. He went into Hermione's study to see if perhaps she kept a bottle of something in her potions cabinet. There were several potions in there including two bottles that looked like they held memories, but the labels only had dates on them without a description. Whatever it was it had happened several months ago. Curious as to what she'd pull out of her head and leave bottled, he looked around for a Pensieve, but there wasn't one. There wasn't any liqueur either, so he put the memory bottles back. He sat down at her desk. A photo of her and Viktor taken on a beach somewhere was in a silver frame. He was shirtless in swim trunks and looking ripped. Hermione was in a bikini and a sarong. She was deeply tanned and her hair was straight and sun-bleached. She'd glamoured over her scars and looked fit. In the photo, Viktor kept leaning in and kissing her cheek causing her to smile. Ron hated the sight of Viktor's hands on her, hated the sight of him kissing her, hated the sight of him. He put the photo face down on the desk and began opening drawers. He was curious as to what she'd leave behind. An answer appeared in the bottom drawer. Her photo album from school lay abandoned. He opened it but closed it again almost immediately. It was too painful to look at them young and happy. He put the album back in the drawer and made his way upstairs. The first floor was all bedrooms, so he started opening doors. The first room had clearly been lived in and he wondered if she hadn't switched to this bedroom from the second-floor room she'd had as a child. The closet was empty except for some hangers. The drawers were mostly empty too. There was an old camisole and a pair of tube socks he assumed belonged to Viktor, since they had bands of Puddlemere United's colors at the top. Ron picked up the camisole and brought it to his nose, but it was clean and smelled like detergent instead of like her.

On impulse, he folded back the covers on the bed and picked up a pillow. The first one smelled of a spicy aftershave. He grimaced and dropped it. The second pillow had what he was hoping for. He brought it to his nose and was rewarded with the warm smell of Hermione. He breathed it in deeply before putting it back on the bed and moving on to the next room. He tried the door, but it was locked and Alohomora wouldn't open it. He couldn't understand why she would lock off a bedroom. He went to the next door and realized it was her parents' old room. It was in a partial state of refurbishment. The wallpaper and carpet had been removed but hadn't been replaced. The closets and the bathroom were empty. There was another door that at first Ron thought was a closet, but then realized connected to the locked room next door. He tried the handle but it too was locked. He couldn't figure out why she would do that, but he couldn't break the locking spell. He went back into the hallway and upstairs. The first door on the left was the room he'd stayed in when he and Hermione had visited her parents before they'd started hunting for Horcruxes. He looked at the bed and remembered their disastrous first time. He'd been overexcited and hadn't taken his time with her. He could still recall her anguished cry and the tight heat as he'd plunged into her. That memory brought forth another, something just on the edge of remembrance, something more recent but he couldn't quite catch it. He shook his head and sat down on the edge of the bed. Choosing instead to remember making it up to her, the delightful little noises she'd made as she'd squirmed beneath his tongue, the taste of her, the smell of her. He dropped his head into his hands. How had he managed to lose it all? How was he ever going to get her back?

His idea for charmed televisions was a good one, even Fred and George thought so, and the magic was going well. He was just about there. He was planning a test run at a Hogwarts Quidditch match next month. If he could just make it work, that would impress her. He could prove he had something to offer on his own. He wasn't just the sidekick and comic relief for the chosen one and the brightest witch of her age. He had his own skills and his own ideas. He wasn't just about the past. He was making his own future and he'd be successful, if not with the televisions, with something else. He just had to keep at it until she noticed. He blew out a frustrated breath and stood. He wouldn't go crawling into his cups either. He wasn't that bloke anymore. He was better than that, better now in general. The fog had finally lifted from his injuries, so he could think clearly, and his magic was fully restored, so he was strong. He was starting to put some weight back on and was playing Quidditch on the weekends with Harry and Ginny, Angelina and his brothers. He felt strong and clear headed in a way he hadn't felt in ages. If he could only get Hermione back, his life would be completely on track.

He wandered down the hall to her old room. It looked largely untouched. Most of her books were still there. He reckoned there wasn't enough room for all of them in Viktor's flat. Her bed was still made with the same floral bedspread. The only photos he saw were Muggle prints pinned to a bulletin board. One was of her and Harry in Diagon Alley circa second year. Another was of a family ski trip. She looked to be about fourteen. There was another family photo of a picnic when she was perhaps six or seven. There were none of him and her and he wondered if she'd removed them or had never put up any to begin with. Out of curiosity, he opened the drawer of her nightstand and there was a frame face down. He picked it up and looked at the two of them. He had his arm casually around her and was looking at something out of the frame. She had her head resting against his chest, and had a look of such contentment, it made his heart ache. It wasn't a magical photograph, so it must have been taken by her parents. He wondered why she'd chosen this one. He remembered her mother snapping several when they'd visited that time before the war. He looked at the photo and wondered if it was taken before they'd made love or after. He thought after. He was much too casual in the way he held her for it to have been taken before. This was a man who thought he knew the world, thought he'd won the girl, and that she'd be his forever. _Idiot_ , Ron thought. He left the picture on the nightstand and drew his wand and Disapparated home. There were no answers in the townhouse only haunted memories.

xXx

Back at Viktor's flat, he was wise enough not to suggest they pick up where they left off and asked Hermione if she wanted a cup of tea.

She shook her head. "Let's just go to bed. I'm exhausted."

Viktor nodded and went into the bedroom. As they undressed, she watched him and felt strangely alienated as they got into bed.

"Nox," Viktor said and plunged the room into darkness. He turned on his side to face her as she lay on her back staring at the ceiling. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. It's just been a long night."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

Viktor sighed. "Okay."

xXx

Hermione lay there staring at the ceiling for hours. Viktor had long since fallen asleep. She thought about getting a drink or maybe having a smoke on the balcony, but she was too tired to move. She glanced at Viktor through the corner of her eye. He was a good man, a kind man, generous, intelligent, a good lover. All of those things were true, so why wasn't she in love with him? What was wrong with her?

She felt stuck. She couldn't go backwards. Ron was either affable and pleasant like he'd been that day at Hogwarts or scowling and irritable like he'd been tonight. He still hadn't apologized for the way he'd treated her when they were together. At best, he seemed occasionally to want to be friends again. She couldn't move forward either. She felt like she was running in place with Viktor, waiting for feelings to surface that she didn't currently feel but thought she should. For some reason, part of her was walled off from him and she wasn't sure how to break down that barrier. She wanted to. Maybe she just needed more time. After all, the last year had been brutal. It wasn't like Viktor was professing his undying love either. Maybe they both needed time. She closed her eyes, desperate for some sleep before she had to go to work.


	20. The International Quidditch Association

Two nights later, Viktor came home from training to Hermione reading in the parlor. She looked up when he came in and closed her book. "Hello."

He flopped down next to her on the sofa.

"You seem exhausted."

He yawned. "It was a rough day. Two players collided mid-air."

"Are they all right?"

"Yes, a broken nose and a split lip, but nothing more serious thanks to you."

"The cushion worked then?" She smiled.

"Absolutely. They both came off their brooms at fifty or sixty feet in the air. There would have been major injuries without the cushion."

"Fantastic. I'm so glad it works."

"Me too. The coach is writing a letter tonight to the IQA recommending the cushion for all pitches and not just during practice."

"That's great." She grinned. "That's really great."

Viktor leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I'm sure the IQA will accept the recommendation. Madam Hooch has seen a remarkable drop in Quidditch related injuries since it was installed at Hogwarts."

"Really?"

"Yes, she and my coach are friends. I am thinking they might be more than friends, but that is not my business."

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

He shrugged. "Anyway, they have been corresponding about the cushion charm, and of course, the coach talks to me about it, because she knows I live with you."

"Thanks to the press, everyone knows I live with you. It's very convenient and saves me having to send out change of address cards."

Viktor's brow wrinkled in confusion. "Change of address cards?"

She patted his arm. "Muggle reference. It doesn't matter."

Viktor reached for her and she straddled his lap. "I would not describe the press and their obsession with what we are doing and where we are doing it as very convenient."

Hermione leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. "And what are we doing?"

"I am not sure," Viktor said, sliding his hands beneath her shirt. "But I would like to do it right here."

"You are a very smart man."

xXx

It was mid-December when an ornate envelope from the International Quidditch Association arrived for Hermione informing her that they were giving her a service award and inviting her to their Christmas gala and awards ceremony on the 20th. She had already planned to attend with Viktor, but was pleased to have her own invitation.

"What is that?" Viktor asked, as he stepped into the kitchen.

"The IQA is giving me a service award," Hermione said.

Viktor chuckled.

"What?" Hermione asked. "That cushion is very useful. You've said so yourself."

He kissed her forehead. "Of course, it is. I just think it is a little funny that you are getting a Quidditch award when you can barely stay on a broom."

She considered for a moment. "That's fair. Listen, can I borrow your owl?"

"You do not have to ask."

"Sorry. It's a habit. I just want to send a note to Thomas about this award ceremony. He helped with the casting and testing. Maybe we can all go together."

"Sure," Viktor said.

Hermione smiled, but watched with a sense of apprehension as he went to get the large Eurasian Eagle-owl he'd recently purchased. Viktor loved the massive bird, but it made Hermione nervous. She grabbed a piece of parchment and penned a quick note to Thomas. Viktor came back in with his bird, and she handed him the letter.

He frowned at her. "You can give it to him."

"That's okay," she said, trying to sound nonchalant. "You can do it. He's your owl. He likes you best."

Viktor rolled his eyes but gave the bird the letter and sent him on his way. He smirked at Hermione. "You fought Voldemort but are afraid of an owl."

"To be fair, I never actually faced Voldemort directly. Not to mention, Voldemort never flew into my parlor and ate a rabbit right in front of me." She grimaced.

"I have asked him not to do that again."

"Thanks, but that event is permanently etched in my mind. For goodness sake, Viktor, the rabbit was still screaming. It was awful."

"I know. And I am sorry, but he is a bird of prey and rabbits are prey. It is his nature."

"I know that, but you can deal with him."

Viktor shrugged. "He is a good owl," she heard him mutter behind her as she walked out of the kitchen.

The next evening, Viktor's owl returned with Thomas' reply:

_Dear Hermione,_

_Thank you but I have a previous engagement on the 20_ _th_ _._

_The cushion was your Idea anyway. I just helped with the initial_

_casting. Enjoy the award. You've earned it._

_Best regards,_

_Thomas_

_PS_

_Everyone in the DoM thinks it's hilarious that you're getting a_

_Quidditch award._

"Oh great," Hermione muttered.

"What?" Viktor looked up from his book. They were sitting on opposite ends of the sofa with their legs tangled together in the middle.

"Apparently, everyone in the Department of Mysteries thinks it's really funny that I'm getting an award from the IQA."

"My teammates think that is funny too."

"You already told them?"

"Of course, I told everyone in the changing room. They think it is very funny someone so bad on a broom is getting a Quidditch award."

She frowned at him. "And just how do your teammates know how bad I am on a broom?"

"Some of them were in school with you."

Her frown deepened. "Oliver should keep his mouth shut."

Viktor did his best to look contrite. "Oliver is not the only one who went to Hogwarts."

"Fine. I'm not bothered. We'll see how many of them walk away with awards."

Viktor smirked. "From our team this year, only me and Oliver."

Hermione cocked her head at him. "Why didn't you say?"

He shrugged.

"What's the award?"

He shrugged again. "It is for…um…what did they call it? Charitable outreach."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Charitable…when have you…? What?"

"You work a lot." He frowned at her. "I do not only play golf in my spare time."

"But you've never said." She felt affronted that he'd kept this from her.

"It is not a big deal."

"Clearly it is, if they're giving you an award for it."

"Are you upset?"

"No," she lied.

He frowned at her. "How can you be upset about charity work?"

"I'm not upset, although I would have thought you'd have mentioned it, given the fact that you've done so much charitable work, that you're being recognized for it."

He didn't say anything.

"What?"

"You do not ask."

"That's not fair," Hermione said.

He shrugged.

"I'm meant to ask about things you're doing that you've never mentioned. How am I supposed to know to do that?"

He frowned. "Let us just say that you lack curiosity when it comes to my day."

Her mouth dropped open. "That's not true. I ask about your day."

He raised his eyebrows. "You might ask the initial question, but you stop listening almost from the moment I open my mouth. You rarely ask a follow up question."

She had no response for that, so she just sat there with her mouth open.

He untangled his legs from hers and got up. "I think I will go fly around for a bit. I will be back later."

"Are you really just going to fly around or are you planning to help widows and orphans while you're out?" she said acidly. She regretted it the moment the words were out of her mouth.

Viktor shook his head in disapproval, got one of his brooms from the spare room and left.

Hermione grabbed her cigarettes and went out on the balcony. She could see Viktor flying in the distance and lit a cigarette and watched until he disappeared. She could believe she was so distracted and indifferent to him that she didn't ask him about his day. She wondered if she'd done that to Ron too. Maybe that why he'd shown zero interest in getting back together after he'd sobered up. She shook her head. Perhaps that was the real problem with Viktor. Thinking about her relationship with him inevitably had her thinking about Ron and that was wrong. Viktor was a good man. He deserved better. She needed to pull herself together, let bygones be bygones, and try to make this relationship work, or she was going to end up alone, and she wasn't ready for that. She sighed and lit another cigarette off her first one. She had to make this up to him.

xXx

Viktor arrived home two hours later. His face was wind-chapped as he stepped into the flat from the balcony.

"You're back," Hermione said.

He nodded and went to put his broom away. When he came back into the parlor he found her standing with her head down and her hands folded. "I owe you an apology."

He shook his head. "I am fine."

"No seriously," she said, reaching for his hands and finding them cold. He'd forgotten to wear gloves. She closed her eyes and cast a warming charm.

His hands felt instantly better. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I really am sorry. It was never my intention to make you feel like I don't care about your life. I do care. I know I get distracted by my work. I find it compelling." She stepped closer to him. "But I also find you very compelling."

He frowned at her. "It often does not feel like that."

She nodded. "I know. And that's my fault, but I can do better. I will do better."

He looked into her eyes and found her earnestness endearing. He knew now that being a better girlfriend would be a project for her. She would think about it, plan for it, make it part of her day. He wondered how that would manifest but knew that it would happen in some measure. He couldn't help thinking how much easier his relationship with Nikolina had been. He knew that wasn't fair but couldn't stop making the comparison anyway. He had to stop doing that. He leaned in and kissed Hermione's forehead. "I know you will and I appreciate that." He put his arms around her and pulled her into a hug.

She pressed her nose into the crook of his neck. "I'm sorry I'm not good at this."

"That is not true," Viktor said. "You are very good at many aspects of our relationship. You get distracted sometimes. That is not a crime." He felt guilty that she felt so bad but was also somewhat comforted that she cared enough to feel bad for hurting his feelings. Sometimes he questioned her commitment. She slipped her hands under his sweater and pushed it up so she could kiss his belly, running her tongue along his abs, and just like that, they were back to something she was good at. He let out a contented sigh. She certainly never lacked for ardor.

xXx

The night of the IQA gala, Hermione carefully dressed in the blood red velvet dress Viktor had given her for the occasion. It was one shouldered with a long thin dragon embroidered in a lighter red silk from under the arm of the shoulderless side down to the top of a long slit that rose mid-thigh. He bought most of her clothes and she wasn't sure how to feel about that. On the one hand, she couldn't be bothered. On the other hand, his taste had a tendency toward a sexy elegance and high drama that didn't really mesh with her own. Still, she always looked good, and he had a better eye for clothes than she did. Viktor often asked for a dragon motif to be incorporated into clothing he had made for them. He felt it was good luck to incorporate one's wand core whenever possible and both of their wands had dragon heartstring cores. She slipped on the high heels that were dyed to match the dress and checked her look in the mirror. Her hair was in the smooth French twist that Viktor preferred. She used her wand to do her makeup with a glamour charm appropriate for the evening event. When she was satisfied, she stepped out into the parlor where Viktor was waiting in his dress robes. She noticed there was a barely visible embroidered dragon pattern on his lapels. It was done in black silk and was very subtle against the navy blue of his collar. He was sporting the gold crossed bulrush pin tonight too. She smiled and adjusted his bow-tie.

"You look dashing," she said with a smile.

"You look ravishing," he said with a leer.

She waved him off. They walked outside and Hermione handed him an empty biscuit tin.

"You will be there for the party for the recipients back at the flat?" Viktor asked.

She gave him a patient look. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be? It's not like I even had to do anything. You had Oliver's elf handle the whole thing."

He shook his head. "I know you do not like that, but neither one of us had time to cook for a party, even a small party."

"I know. I said I understood."

He raised his eyebrows doubtfully.

She sighed and held out the tin. "Shall we?"

"Yes," he said.

xXx

The Portkey took them to a massive tent in an open field in Orkney. Wind blocking charms surrounded the area. Hermione looked around at the windswept landscape and the dark sea beyond. "It's been a long time since I've been up here," she said in a quiet voice.

Viktor looked at her. "Are you okay?"

She smiled at him. "Yes, of course. I'm fine. We should go in." But a shiver passed through her despite the warming charms surrounding the tent.

Photographers snapped their photos as they approached the venue. A lot of people were already milling around the tables which were set up for a banquet. Viktor and Hermione found their places near the front and took their seats. The minute they sat down their wine and water goblets filled themselves. A few minutes later, the head of the International Quidditch Association called for everyone to take their seats. Dinner appeared on all the plates at the same time. It was standard event food: roast chicken, rice pilaf, and peas. While everyone ate, the director spoke at length about the year in Quidditch and all the community contributions by the teams and various players. Hermione wasn't really paying attention. She and Ron and Harry had spent a lot of time hiding in the Outer Hebrides and the memories were flooding her mind, so it took her by surprise when everyone clapped, and then Harry took the podium.

She leaned over and whispered to Viktor, "What's Harry doing here?"

Viktor frowned at her. "He just said that Harry will be presenting the awards tonight."

At the podium, Harry cleared his throat. "Good evening everyone. I was surprised when the head of the IQA asked if I would present the awards this year, but when he explained who some of the recipients were, I had to agree."

There was polite laughter, but Hermione didn't get the joke. She realized that due to their last-minute arrival neither she nor Viktor had picked up a program.

"This first award is unique, because while some years no one is awarded it, this year, there are two recipients and while their projects have nothing to do with one another, I understand that there was some small collaboration. So, in alphabetical order because I refuse to choose any other way, this year's first award for a Significant Contribution to the Game of Quidditch goes to Hermione Granger. Hermione come up here, please."

Hermione made her way to the stage forcing herself not to scan the crowd as she did so. She had a sinking sensation that Ron was also here, and that was why Harry was asked to present. While she walked up the stairs, Harry continued. "I've known Hermione was brilliant since our first year in school, but I really wish she'd come up with this cushion spell for the pitch before I broke my wrist in a match second year."

There was more chuckling from the crowd.

As Hermione walked across the stage, Harry continued, "But apparently that wasn't significant enough for her think of it then, but let Viktor Krum hit the ground, break his shoulder, get a concussion, and suddenly, she has the brainstorm of the century."

The crowd laughed knowingly as Harry handed Hermione the crystal statue of a snitch. She could feel herself blush. Harry gave her a hug. "That spell really is amazing," he whispered.

"Thanks," she whispered back, before stepping to the podium. "Thank you, Harry, and thank you, members of the IQA. I have to say, for someone who can barely stay on a broom, this is an unexpected honor." There was laughter from the crowd. "As Harry said, I had the idea when I saw Viktor fall during the European Cup match earlier this year. He took the fall, and the resulting injuries in his stride, but it left me rather rattled. I thought of the cushion as a way to avoid having my heart stop during future games." She could see Viktor chuckle. "It took a lot of time to get it right and some significant help from friends and coworkers. I'm really happy it's worked out so well for everyone. She held up the small statue. Thank you again."

Everyone clapped and she returned to her table, but this time she allowed her eyes to skip across the crowd and there he was, Ron, sitting near the back with his arm around a witch who'd been in their year but in Ravenclaw. She drew a blank on the woman's name.

Harry resumed his place at the podium. "As I understand it from a reliable source, our next recipient did some of the flying and fall testing for Hermione's pitch cushion charm, but during that same time, he was working on his own significant contribution. Some of you have probably already purchased one of his charmed televisions, which can now bring Quidditch matches right into your parlor. He's worked tirelessly with the IQA to broadcast as many matches as possible, and I understand that he can barely keep those charmed televisions on the shelves. Tonight's second recipient for a Significant Contribution to the Game of Quidditch goes to Ron Weasley of Weasley's Enchanted Electronics.

Hermione swallowed hard and dared to glance at Viktor. His face was stony and his jaw was clenched. "Viktor," she whispered. "I can expl—"

"Not right now," he hissed back without looking at her.

She closed her mouth and returned her eyes to the podium where Ron was speaking.

"…I just want to point out that all I did to help Hermione's project was fly straight up and fall off a broom over and over again. It's not like I contributed to the underlying magic or anything, but you know, I can manage to fall off a broom if she needs me to."

The crowd laughed.

Hermione could feel Viktor's furious gaze boring into the back of her neck. She couldn't believe she hadn't told him she'd run into Ron that day and that he'd helped test the cushion. If she'd only told him at the time, she could have explained the whole thing. She desperately wanted to go home. The crowd chuckled again, but she'd missed whatever Ron said. She glanced up and he was walking across the stage to return to his seat.

Harry continued blithely along to the next category as though he hadn't just exploded her evening. She wanted this whole thing to be over, but then she remembered there was an after party at their flat and that Ron would be invited. She knew Viktor had told the IQA to invite the recipients for him, because the names of the other recipients were supposed to be secret until the event, so he'd never actually seen the guest list, which didn't bother him, because he assumed he knew most of the recipients anyway. Ron probably wouldn't come. After all, he was there with that Ravenclaw witch. Surely, they had plans, but even if they didn't, there would be no reason he would want to see where she and Viktor lived. The moment she thought about it though, she realized he might actually be curious. _Oh, please don't come_ , she thought.

Dinner disappeared and dessert appeared, it was Victoria sandwich, which was one of Hermione's favorites, but she barely touched it. She noticed Viktor didn't eat much either. Fortunately, there were only fifteen recipients total, the last category was for Charitable Outreach. There were five players recognized and Oliver and Viktor were among them. Viktor's speech was short and delivered with a thicker accent than he usually had, and he stumbled a bit over the words, a sure sign of how upset he was. Oliver was the last to receive his award and he gave a heartfelt speech about war orphans and the impact they had on his life. The director of the IQA returned to the podium and thanked everyone for coming and invited them to stay for dancing. When he was finished speaking everyone rose to the let the tables disappear and the chairs rearrange themselves so the dance floor could expand.

Hermione turned to Viktor. "Can we just go home, so I can explain what happened?"

"No," Viktor said firmly. "We're honorees we should stay and dance. We can discuss this after the party."

"Viktor," Hermione said, but a quartet began playing and he headed out on to the dance floor. She reluctantly followed. He turned to her and took her hand, immediately starting into a foxtrot. The formal dance allowed him to move through the steps without paying her much attention. He wouldn't look at her. She shifted her fingers in his tight grip. "Could you please loosen up? You're crushing my hand."

He relaxed his grip but didn't say anything. Whenever they took a break, he would dutifully go get them each a drink, but he'd hand it to her without making eye contact. She noticed Harry and Ginny dancing, but didn't dare go talk to them. Whenever they took a break, she stayed right where Viktor left her. Eventually, Harry came over while Ginny talked to someone Hermione didn't know.

"Hey," Harry said. "How's your evening going?"

"Fine," Hermione said tightly. "Yours?"

"Good. Is Viktor okay? He seems a bit off."

"He's fine. We've had a bit of spat is all."

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"It's nothing," Hermione assured him, hoping that was true.

Harry put his hands in the pockets of his formal coat and looked around. "I guess Ron already left."

"Yes, well, I'm sure he and that Ravenclaw witch had better things to do with their evening."

"Ah," Harry said. "Ravenclaw. I was trying to place her. Mandy somebody, right?"

Hermione nodded suddenly remembering the name. "Brocklehurst. She was friends with Padma." She just wanted the night to be over.

Ginny and Oliver came over then.

"Hiya," Ginny said.

"Hello," Hermione said. "You look nice."

"Thanks," Ginny said looking down at the royal blue sheath dress she was wearing as though she hadn't realized she had it on. "So, do you. That's new, isn't it?"

"Yes," Hermione said absently. "Viktor had it made at Madam Malkins."

Ginny laughed. "Viktor buys your clothes?"

Hermione shrugged. "Sometimes." The answer was really 'all of the time,' but she thought that might sound weird. She really missed the ease of putting on a uniform every day.

Ginny gave a side eye to Harry. "Don't get ideas."

Harry shook his head. "As though I would even know what to buy. You buy most of my clothes."

"Which is the natural order of things," Oliver piped up.

Hermione checked back in to the conversation. "Is it?"

"Well, my mum always buys my dad's clothes," Oliver said.

"That's not how it went at my house. My parents did all the clothes shopping together," Ginny said.

"Does that mean you want me to shop with you?" Harry asked, clearly appalled at the idea.

"Goodness no," Ginny said. "You'd only slow me down."

Everyone laughed.

Oliver turned to Hermione. "Come dance with me."

Hermione looked to where Viktor was in deep conversation with a man she didn't recognize. "Alright," she said and followed Oliver on to the dance floor.

Finally, after an hour and a half, Viktor announced he was ready to leave. She took the Portkey from her purse and handed it to him. "I'll Apparate. It's not too far."

He didn't question her and walked outside. She sighed, pulled her wand, and returned to his flat. She was already in the parlor when he walked in the front door.

"Viktor," she said.

He held up his palm to stop her. "Don't. I will not talk about this now when we have guests coming."

"If you'd just let me explain—"

His face flushed red. "Not right now." He stormed into their bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

She blew out a slow breath. It was going to be a long night.

xXx

As people started arriving Viktor came out of the bedroom and acted the good host. Hermione complied with the pretending despite the anxiety she felt. He didn't look her in the eye for the rest of the evening. She tried to find little ways to make it up to him. She poured him a glass of Rakia and brought it to him, but he barely acknowledged her when she handed it to him. Sighing she stood next to him as he chatted with Oliver and some of the other recipients. At least Ron didn't show up. She couldn't imagine anything that would make the night worse. The conversation turned toward Oliver's tumultuous love life. His latest girlfriend had left over a misunderstanding about hair color.

"I didn't say I didn't like the color of her hair," Oliver protested. "She asked which was my favorite, and I answered honestly."

Everyone laughed. "Big mistake," one of the other men said. "It was a test, like asking if something makes her look fat, the right answer is always no, and the right answer to the hair question is whatever color her hair is at the moment."

"But that's crazy," Oliver protested. "Her hair was five or six different colors while we were dating. I thought she was just asking what I wanted to see that week." He turned to Hermione. "Help me out here."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know what to tell you."

Viktor let out a soft snort next to her.

"Well," Oliver said. "Would you change your hair color for Viktor?"

Hermione shrugged. "If he wanted me to. What's the big deal? It's a simple spell." She looked at Viktor, but he averted his eyes.

Oliver laughed. "So, you'd go blonde for that lout?"

She snapped her fingers and her hair was the color of Draco's but still up in the French twist.

Everyone laughed.

She shook her head and smiled. "Excuse me." She stepped out of the kitchen and walked down the hall to use the loo.

When she turned the corner, Ron's voice said behind her, "Your real color is better and so are your curls."

Hermione spun around. "What are you doing here?" she hissed.

He held up a piece of parchment. "I'm a recipient. I was invited."

"But why? Why would you want to come here?"

Ron shrugged. "What? I can't see what your life looks like now?" His eyes skipped to the open bedroom door where Viktor's heavy framed king-sized bed stood. Hermione could feel herself blush.

"Please leave," she whispered.

"Why?" Ron said staring intently at her.

"Look, I'm having a really bad night, and it's likely to get a lot worse. If you ever had an ounce of genuine affection for me, then please, leave right now."

He continued staring at her for a moment before saying, "It was considerably more than an ounce. I'll go."

"Thank you," she whispered.

He turned and walked back to the front door. She watched him go and saw, out of the corner of her eye, Viktor doing the same from the doorway to the kitchen. She saw the muscles in his jaw clench before he turned around and walked away.

"Fantastic," she muttered sarcastically before heading to the loo. She stayed in there far longer than she needed to simply because she didn't know what to do when she got back to the party. Fortunately, since most of the recipients didn't know each other that well, the small talk ran out after a couple of hours and people began to trickle home. Even Oliver didn't linger like he usually would. Clearly, he'd picked up on the tension between Viktor and Hermione and left when the other guests did.

While Viktor walked the last of the guests to the door, Hermione drew her wand and began cleaning up. When everyone was gone, he turned to her and said, "I have never been so humiliated in my entire life. What could possibly have possessed you to ask Ron to test that charm instead of me? I am a professional Quidditch player, Hermione. There is no one better on a broom than me, and yet you went to him. And then Harry announced it in front of the entire Quidditch Association." His fists were clenched tightly at his side, and he was clearly trying to rein in his temper.

She sighed and put away her wand. "First off, I didn't go to him for help. Thomas and I went to Hogwarts to do the first full scale trial run of the cushion, and Ron was already there working on his project. We exchanged polite hellos and then went about our business. When it was time to do the fall test though, he saw me pull a broom out of my bag and came running over to see what we were doing."

"What do you mean you pulled out a broom? You are terrible on a broom."

"I know, but I can make one go straight up, and I'm practically an expert at falling off."

"Why did Thomas not do the test?"

"I drew the short straw. Besides, it was my charm. I should've been the one flying."

"That's ridiculous," Viktor said with a scowl. "You don't know how to fall. You could have seriously hurt yourself."

"That's exactly what Ron said."

Viktor's jaw muscles clenched. "Which is why you should have told me what you were doing and asked me to go with you."

"In retrospect, I wish I had, but at the time, I wanted it to be a surprise."

"It was certainly that, a humiliating surprise. Why did you not tell me you had seen him that day? Why did you not tell me before the awards ceremony? You had plenty of chances to explain all of this and yet you did not."

"Look, I…" She didn't know what to say. He was right.

He frowned at her. "Were you just hoping I would not find out?"

"No. It's not that—"

"Then what is it?"

Hermione swallowed hard. "I don't know…"

"Is it that you do not know or that you do not want to say?"

She shook her head. She wished he could see her side of it. "I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"Why would you let him help you? Have you forgotten what he did to you this time last year? Is your memory so short?"

"No," she answered hotly. "It's not short. It's very, very long."

"And that is the problem, is it not?" Viktor said. "In spite of everything, you cannot let go of him."

"That's not fair," Hermione said.

"It is fair, because it is true. You should go."

"What?"

"Go home. You do not want to be here, and I cannot look at you right now."

"What are you saying?"

"I am saying you need to leave. Go home."

"What are you talking about? This is my home." Hermione said, pushing down the anxiety that was threatening to make her hysterical. "This is my life."

"No, it is not. Whatever goes on at the Ministry, that is your life. That is where your mind is." He looked around the flat. "And this, I do not know what this is for you, but I am tired of waiting for you to figure it out."

"Are you serious? Over testing a charm?" She couldn't believe this was happening.

"He was in this flat tonight," Viktor said grimly.

"Because he was invited, and not by me."

"And why do you think he came?"

Hermione shook her head. "I have no idea. Curiosity probably."

Viktor frowned at her.

"What? I told him to leave."

Viktor shook his head. "Exactly."

The entire conversation had gotten away from her, and she was completely lost. "I don't understand. Why is that bad?"

Viktor sighed. "Go home. I am done with this conversation." He turned and walked back to the bedroom.

"I don't understand what I did that was so wrong." she cried at his retreating back.

He didn't respond, so she Disapparated.


	21. What Adulthood Looks Like

Hermione hadn't returned to her parents' townhouse in weeks, but the second she appeared in the kitchen she knew something was amiss. A cabinet was open that she was sure she'd closed. She tightened her grip on her wand and eased through the house, feeling ridiculous doing so in an evening gown and heels. In the study, her potions cabinet had clearly been rummaged through. The memories were still thankfully in their bottles, but they'd definitely been moved. On heightened alert, she made her way upstairs where the bedspread was pulled back in the bedroom she shared with Viktor. She hurried down the hall to the nursery and was relieved to find the locking charms still in place. She knew she needed to empty it, to let go of the pain it represented, but it wasn't going to happen that evening. Nothing was missing, which left her wondering who would go through the house an not take anything. She could only think of one person. Finally, she went up to the top floor and her suspicions were confirmed when she saw that the photo of her and Ron had been removed from the drawer of the nightstand and left out. She gritted her teeth and grabbed a piece of parchment from her desk. She scribbled out a note, and then used her wand to cast a spell to call for an emergency owl. It was expensive, but the message couldn't wait.

xXx

Across town, Ron was standing in the flat above the shop he'd opened in Diagon Alley. He'd finally finished moving in. He'd been working so much lately at getting Weasley's Enchanted Electronics up and running that he hadn't given the flat much attention, but he was sick to death of living out of boxes, so he'd finally arranged the furniture and put everything away. The flat was just one bedroom with a kitchen, living room, and bath, but the rooms were large, with high ceilings, and he liked it. Living above Weasley's Wizard Wheezes without Hermione had been demoralizing, but this was his own flat. She'd never lived here, so he didn't see her everywhere he turned. That could only be a good thing. The last box was full of framed photos. He set it on the coffee table and looked through them. There was one of his whole family in Egypt. He set that on the mantle. He flipped through the rest, looking for one of him and Harry without Hermione. Finally, he found one, taken first year, before they fought the mountain troll and cemented the Golden Trio. Ron looked at the two little boys in the photo grinning at the camera, their arms around each other's shoulders, already good mates. He couldn't remember who'd snapped the photo, but they were at Hogwarts in the main courtyard. Het set it on the mantle and flipped through the rest of the photos in the box. The only other photo without Hermione was one of him and Ginny that Harry had taken when the three of them had gone on a brief vacation earlier in the year. He set that one on the mantle too, closed the box, and stuck it on the top shelf of the coat closet. Yawning, he looked out the window at the night sky. He was surprised to see an owl flying toward him at this time of night. When it landed on the window sill, he took its letter and gave it a treat from the jar he kept in the kitchen.

The letter was brief:

_Since you feel the need to come in uninvited, I've revoked your Apparition privileges for the townhouse._

The letter wasn't signed. It didn't need to be. He knew he should be ashamed of himself for invading her privacy like that, but he wasn't. It all felt inevitable: his behavior, her response. Testing that charm for her had felt like a step in the right direction, at least to being friends again. The problem was he didn't want to be her friend. He wanted all of it back, and if he couldn't have it all, he didn't want crumbs. That was probably immature, just like going through the townhouse had been, but he didn't care. They'd known each other since they were children. He felt like he was allowed a bit of immaturity when it came to her. What was she doing on the other side of London at this time of night anyway? She should be at the other end of the alley at Viktor's. He looked in the direction of her parents' townhouse, as if he could see through all the buildings, all the way across town and into her parlor. If she hadn't just revoked his Apparition privileges, he would go to her. He contemplated just showing up on her doorstep and knocking, but with his luck, she was there with Viktor.

xXx

Hermione looked through all the drawers and closets in the room she shared with Viktor and came up with nothing but an old camisole that was too small and a pair of Viktor's socks. All of her clothes were at Viktor's. She'd sent all her parents' clothes to OxFam, so it looked like she'd be stuck in her dress all night. Desperate, she went upstairs and rummaged through her old school trunk, but then remembered she'd also given all her old uniforms, with the exception of her first-year jumper, to charity. She held up the small jumper with its Hogwarts crest. That wasn't going to help. Then she found a plastic bag from St. Mungo's with a flannel shirt and jeans in it. They'd been cleaned but cursed blood doesn't come out, so they were heavily stained. There was some old underwear in her upstairs dresser. She took off her elegant evening gown and the thong she wore under it and put on a fresh pair of knickers. They were plain white cotton, which is why she'd left them at the townhouse. Viktor's tastes ran a bit more exotic. She pulled on the flannel shirt, took an extra blanket out of the hall linen closet, and went back downstairs to the parlor. There was nothing to eat or drink in the house, and the markets were closed at this hour, so she went into the parlor and made a fire and sat down in front of it with the blanket wrapped around her.

She didn't understand what had happened tonight at all. Viktor was clearly furious with her and had put her out of the house, which seemed like a relationship ending kind of thing to do, but she wasn't sure. Perhaps she was meant to go back to his flat and collect her things tomorrow, but it was hard to imagine he'd make such a harsh decision over a charm test. She hadn't even wanted Ron to do the bloody testing. It was Thomas that had agreed to that. She was fairly certain she hadn't explained that to Viktor, but if she went back and said it now, it would sound like a made-up excuse. It was all so unfair. She was certain, had their roles been reversed, that she would only be mildly annoyed. She absolutely wouldn't break up with him over something that stupid. She stared bewildered at the fire. Clearly, Viktor didn't think it was stupid.

xXx

She fell asleep in front of the fire. When the clock chimed six the next morning, she stood and gathered the blanket around her like a shawl. She went into the kitchen for a glass of water before going upstairs to braid her hair and put on the jeans she'd found last night. There was a big tear mid-thigh on one side where her snapped thigh bone had torn through the material. Like the shirt, they were disturbingly stained. A shiver ran down her spine at the memory. In the trunk, she also found a pair of old boots and Viktor had left a pair of team socks in their bedroom on the second floor so she grabbed those. She didn't have a coat, but it didn't matter, she pulled her wand and Apparated directly into Viktor's kitchen.

He was at the table staring into a cup of coffee. Her sudden appearance startled him.

"Sorry," Hermione said.

He arched an eyebrow at her. "What are you wearing?"

"What do you think? You put me out of the house in nothing but an evening gown."

He frowned at her. "I did not put you out of the house."

"Really?" Hermione said, frowning back. "What would you call it?"

"I sent you home," Viktor grumbled.

"Wrong. You sent me away. This is my home, which is where I keep my clothes. I was lucky to put this outfit together."

He turned his head, looking away from her. "I assumed you had clothes there."

"You asked me to move in with you, so I did. Why would I keep clothes at the other house?"

He shrugged sullenly. "Well, you found some, obviously."

"Yes," Hermione said, sitting down in the chair opposite his and pulling off one of her boots. "They were folded in my school trunk in a bag from the hospital. Want to guess when the last time I wore them was? Here's a clue, see this big stain on the side of the shirt or this one across my thighs. Somethings can't be completely cleaned, even by elves."

Viktor glanced at her but then averted his eyes again. "Why would you keep those?"

"I didn't. Harry must have stuck them in my trunk. Why he thought I'd want them, I can't imagine, but I was grateful last night."

She pulled off the other boot and then took off the socks and dropped them on the floor. "Those are yours."

He glanced at the socks for a moment before returning his gaze to the wall.

Hermione huffed and went into their bedroom for another pair of socks and to retrieve his Christmas present. It was already paid for so she might as well give it to him. She came back into the kitchen and set a cracked teacup on the table before sitting down to put her boots back on.

Viktor glanced at the cup and then at her. "What is that?"

"It's your Christmas present. I got us a week at a resort in Pamporovo. I thought we could go for a few days before Christmas, relax, do some skiing, and then you could see your parents for Christmas dinner or something, before coming back to the resort for a few more days off. Todor and Pietra are meeting us there. Well, I guess now they'll just be meeting you. Your activation window is today between eleven and one."

"You a booked us a week in Bulgaria?"

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she wiped it away. "It's your country. You haven't been back for a significant amount of time since the attack. I made the Portkey and booked the rooms under an alias. It's a Muggle hotel. No one will recognize you. You should be safe. Just make sure you set up strong wards around the room."

He didn't say anything. He just stared at the cup.

"Well," Hermione said. "Happy Christmas." She stood to go back into their bedroom. Clearly, he didn't have anything else to say to her, so there was nothing left to do but pack. Oddly enough, she was meant to pack for the trip anyway, so in a way, her morning was going as planned. Two more tears escaped and she brushed them away. She hadn't cried last night, but it was so much harder to keep it together there, faced with him and the reality of the situation. She opened the top drawer on her side of the dresser but it was too much. She stood there staring at her underwear and trying to think how she'd messed things up so badly.

Viktor leaned against the door jamb. "Why did you not just tell him no and test it yourself?"

"I did, but Thomas outranks me and he agreed with Ron."

"Then why did you not come home outraged?"

Hermione sighed and sat on the end of the bed. "Because I wasn't outraged. I was upset. It was awful watching Ron fall off that broom over and over again."

He shook his head. "You still should have told me."

"Yes. I should have. I'm sorry that I didn't. I know I don't always handle him well. It's complicated."

"Yes, because you have not let go of him."

"No, that's not it. I've moved on but moving on in the present won't change the past. He was one of my best friends for years. We shared everything. Just because we no longer do, doesn't change the fact that we once did. That's why he came here last night, just to see what my life looks like now, because for years he knew exactly what it was like, because it was tangled up with his."

"If that is all it was then why did you hurry him out of here? Why not just show him around and let him see?"

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. "Because you were already so cross with me, and frankly, I didn't want him to see that. If he's going to take a peek at my life, I would rather he do it on a good day. Not that it matters now anyway." Another tear slipped.

He sighed. "Hiding your interactions with him feels a lot like cheating to me."

That hurt. She looked at him, no longer even attempting to hold back the tears. "I have never—"

Viktor held up a palm. "I said it feels that way not that it is that way." He inched closer to her. "I could not sleep at all last night. I felt very bad about telling you to leave. Many times during the night, I thought to go get you."

"But you didn't. It's not surprising really. It seems to be my lot in life for my relationships to end when I'm put out of the house." She shook her head, deeply saddened by the reality of that statement. "Clearly, I'm no good at this. I try to make the right choices, to do the right thing, but I end up making a mess instead. I swear to you that I never meant to embarrass you."

"I know that and yet you did."

"And I wasn't sneaking around with Ron. He happened to be there, that's all. We were friends long before we were lovers, so when he saw a situation where he could help, he jumped in and Thomas agreed. I thought all night about why I didn't just tell you when it happened, and I think the answer is that I didn't want to potentially upset you over an incident that amounted to nothing. It didn't change the project in any way, so I proceeded as planned. I know that sounds stupid now, and that it just set this whole thing up to blindside you, but I didn't consider the possible consequences of my actions at the time. I was more focused on the charm."

"Ah, yes, work always has the majority of your attention."

"That's often true, but it's not always true, and frankly, you're every bit as focused on your work as I am on mine. It just doesn't bother me as much not to have your full attention." She was frustrated over his double standard when it came to work.

He raised his eyebrows. "You do not think that says something about our relationship?"

"It probably does, but I don't think it's necessarily negative. We're busy people with compelling jobs. I don't think that's a bad thing. Look, when you go off to play away games, I don't always join you, because I have my own work, and I trust you. I operate on the assumption that you're honorable and trustworthy, and that if you wanted to be with other women, you would say so and leave." She wiped her face with her shirt sleeve. "I thought we had something good here, but then, I've been wrong before."

Viktor stepped in front of her and closed the drawer. He turned to face her. "We do have something good here. I do not want to go to Bulgaria without you. I would miss you very much if you were not in my life."

"I would miss you too. I missed you last night. That's not at all how I intended our evening to go."

"Oh," Viktor said, stepping closer to her. "How did you intend for it to go?"

She gave him a slight smile. "Well, I got some of the details right last night. I was intending to get out of that gown, and I did have visions of being on the floor in front of a fire, but my intention was not to do those things alone."

He tucked an errant curl behind her ear. "Ah yes, this time of year does put me in the mood to have you on the floor in front of a fire."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "To have me?"

"Most definitely."

She gave him a shy smile. "Well, all right then."

He sighed. "But for future reference, if you are doing a project related to Quidditch, I would like to be informed sooner rather than later in the process."

She nodded. "I doubt I'll do anything else related to Quidditch, but if I do, I'll let you know as soon as possible."

"Good," he said and kissed her.

xXx

Further down Diagon Alley, Ron was taking the morning post from an owl. He was delighted to see a letter from Kenya inviting him to an international business conference. He smiled. His business was doing so well he was gaining international attention. Harry and Ginny had been on his case to take a break from working so hard. Maybe Kenya could be his break. He could mix a little business with pleasure. He'd go for the conference and then stay to do some touring. Kenya would be a welcome warm break from the cold English winter. He got a quill and began to pen his reply.

xXx

Back at Viktor's, owls began arriving with the post. Hermione was delighted by all the Christmas cards. There was one from Todor and Pietra, one from Oliver, one from Molly and Arthur, and one from Harry and Ginny. Harry had taken the time to write a brief note on the inside of the card.

_Dear Hermione,_

_We must be better about getting together in the coming year._

_We miss you._

_Love,_

_Harry_

Hermione smiled at the note but sighed. She knew he was right. It was just so tricky with the whole Ron situation. On the other hand, she really missed them. As she and Viktor packed for their ski trip, more cards arrived. Viktor's parents sent one addressed only to Viktor. Luna sent one and signed both her and Neville's name. Hermione had sent Neville a Christmas card, but hadn't sent one to Luna, so she sat down and immediately signed a card and sent it out with the owl that had brought Luna's card. There was also a card from George and one from Fred and Angelina. Hermione had sent them cards earlier in the week and was pleased that they had reciprocated. There was also one from Bill and Fleur with a nice note from Fleur to both of them. She knew it wasn't much, but that small contact made her feel less adrift, and given last night's argument with Viktor, that feeling was important.

xXx

A few hours later, Hermione was standing on a balcony overlooking a snowy slope in Bulgaria. She'd just finished casting protective wards around their suite. Viktor had gone downstairs in search of hot chocolate. He joined her on the balcony and handed her a cup.

"It is a beautiful day. We should try and get in a run before Todor and Pietra arrive."

Hermione took a sip of her cocoa. "Exactly how good of a skier are you?"

"I am brilliant," Viktor said with a grin.

Hermione snorted softly. "Naturally. Well, I'm only so-so. I mostly stick to the green runs. Sometimes, if I'm feeling super confident, I'll try a blue one."

"Ah," Viktor said. "I mostly ski red and black trails."

"Right, so I don't want to hold you back."

"Not to worry, we will ski a green trail this afternoon and then come back to the lodge."

"You're sure you don't mind?"

He smiled at her and kissed her forehead. "I do not mind."

She couldn't help worrying. She wanted this trip to be perfect. Last night had been awful.

As if he could read her mind, Viktor said, "Stop worrying. Last night was bad." He shrugged. "We argued. I should not have sent you back to the townhouse. I am sorry I did that, really, very sorry."

"I'm sorry about the whole thing."

"Okay. So now we are better. I am sorry. You are sorry. We are okay. We will have a good time. Do not worry."

She hugged him and pressed her face against his chest.

xXx

They went skiing that afternoon. Viktor was right, he was a very good skier. Hermione not so much, but they both had a good time. They returned to the hotel room for a shower and to await the arrival of Todor and Pietra. Viktor went to get them hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps. When he came back, they curled up on the sofa in their suite in front of a large gas fireplace.

xXx

That evening, there was a knock on the door. It was good to see Todor and Pietra but after greetings and hugs, Hermione could tell something was wrong. When they were all sitting in the suite's living area. Viktor voiced what Hermione had been thinking. "Is everything okay? Was there a problem with your Portkey?"

"No, the trip was fine," Todor said. He glanced at Pietra.

"We've just had a rough week," Pietra said.

Viktor raised his eyebrows. "What happened?"

"Do you remember Boyka's girlfriend, Marianna?"

"Of course," Viktor said.

"She died of an overdose last weekend," Todor said.

"No," Hermione said, shocked. She remembered Marianna as such a cheerful person.

Pietra nodded. "Sleeping draught."

Hermione felt sick. She thought about the night she and Marianna and Boyka had made dinner in Amsterdam and how playful they were. "I'm so sorry."

"Me too," Pietra said. "Boyka was with us all week. She's beside herself with grief. I'm very worried for her. I would have cancelled this trip, but she's with her family for the holidays, and I'm hoping it will do her some good."

"That is awful. Why would Marianna do such a thing?" Viktor said.

Pietra sighed. "Boyka blames herself. She said they were at a party earlier this year and someone slipped them drugs. Apparently, Marianna was assaulted. She was in counseling, but I guess it wasn't helping."

"That doesn't sound like it was Boyka's fault," Hermione said quietly.

"We didn't think so either," Pietra said, squeezing Todor's hand. "But she's inconsolable. I'm hoping being home will help. We haven't had a lot of sleep this week. We're both exhausted."

"Thank you for inviting us," Todor said to Hermione. "I do not think I have ever needed a holiday as much as this one."

"I'm glad you both could come," Hermione said.

Pietra yawned deeply. "I'm so sorry," she said standing. "I know it's early, but I just want to shower and go to bed."

Todor kissed her hand. "I will be there in a little while."

"Take your time," she said.

Todor watched her walk into their room and shut the door, but it wasn't until he heard the shower go on that he spoke quietly. "This week has been a nightmare."

"I can imagine," Viktor said.

"Every day I expected the truth to come out at any moment, but Boyka didn't mention any of us, and I finally spoke to her alone, and she has no intention of telling Pietra the whole of what happened."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. "Good."

"I am so sorry. Marianna was such a sweet girl," Viktor said.

"Yes," Todor said. "But apparently she had a horrible childhood and…well…what happened in Amsterdam brought it all back."

Hermione covered her eyes with her hand. "That's awful."

"Yes," Todor said. They all sat in sad silence for a few minutes before Todor finally stood. "I am going to go to bed too. Goodnight."

Hermione reached for her cigarettes and went out on to the balcony. A couple of minutes later, Viktor joined her and handed her a small glass of amber liquid. "Rakia," he said.

She took a sip of the strong fruit brandy. "Thanks."

"Are you all right?" Viktor asked leaning against the railing and sipping his own drink.

"I guess. Are you?"

He shrugged. "I do not know how I feel."

Hermione blew a long stream of smoke into the night air. "Do you feel like you were assaulted?"

Viktor shook his head. "Maybe a little. Not exactly. For me, I feel more like I was tricked into something I would not have done otherwise. Does that make sense?"

She nodded. "It does."

"How about you?" Viktor said.

"I don't know. The whole thing is such a blur. Clearly, I was in no state to give consent, but I remember enjoying the dancing, and I remember wanting to be with you and Todor, so that part doesn't feel like assault at all, but then it gets a little hazy. I'm not attracted to Todor sober though, so…" She shook her head. "I don't know and I've never been attracted to women, but as the evening went on, I'm pretty sure we were all in one big pile."

"Yes," Viktor said.

"I'm sure I at least had my hands on Marianna. Does that mean I assaulted her?" The thought made her sick.

"I doubt you were who she took issue with," Viktor said somberly.

"Did you have sex with her?" she asked quietly.

He shook his head. "Like you, I am sure I had my hands on her, but I did not penetrate her. I did with Boyka, but we had been together some years before."

"Really?" Hermione said, arching an eyebrow. "I thought she was gay."

"Marianna was gay. Boyka is bi."

"Oh," Hermione said. "Did Todor have sex with Marianna?"

Viktor shrugged. "Maybe. I can barely remember how my evening went, but I am fairly certain Filip did."

Hermione made a noise of pure disgust. "That bastard."

"Yes. We are lucky he did not cause you and Todor to overdose. Todor probably would have if he had not shared with you."

"A silver lining," Hermione said.

"Yes," Viktor agreed.

She sighed and took another sip of Rakia. "I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about any of this."

He shrugged. "Me either."

"I'm not really one for casual sex with people I don't know."

He smiled and kissed her forehead. "I know."

"But I could see everyone's magic. We were all glowing. It was beautiful and alluring in the moment."

"That was the drugs," he said.

"I know, and I definitely wouldn't want a repeat, but the experience itself was…unique."

"Yes." Viktor nodded.

"So now I feel weirdly connected to all the people in that room, even that bastard, Filip. So, Marianna's death is…I know I barely knew her but…"

"It is upsetting," Viktor said sadly.

Hermione nodded. "Yes. Very." He put his arms around her and hugged her close. She thought about Marianna and the desperation that drives a person to suicide. She'd been very close to that point just a year ago. She felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude to Viktor for showing up when he did. Then the pregnancy and subsequent loss of the baby had been so much more devastating than waking up after a drug fueled orgy that, by comparison, it seemed of little consequence. Alas, clearly it had been far more significant to poor Marianna, and now Boyka suffered the loss, and everyone was hurting. She hugged Viktor tighter.

xXx

The rest of their holiday was spent skiing and hanging out together in the evenings. It turned out that Pietra and Viktor were the advanced skiers while Hermione and Todor hung back and stayed on the bunny slopes. Generally, they went out to dinner somewhere nice at night and then either to a bar or a disco. Todor and Pietra spent Christmas Day with Todor's parents. Like Hermione, Pietra had lost her parents to the war. Viktor had lunch with his parents alone, unwilling to subject Hermione to his mother's vitriol. He returned after only an hour away and they spent the rest of Christmas together. He'd bought her clothes and books. She'd bought him books and a couple of charmed golf clubs. Since Todor and Pietra were gone until Boxing Day, Viktor and Hermione spent the night in front of the fireplace exactly as they had last Christmas, except this time, they had pillows and blankets.

By the time their last day rolled around, Hermione felt like she and Viktor were on the same page again and ready to go home. They had already packed and Viktor was taking a shower. Hermione stepped out onto the balcony for a smoke and to enjoy the view one last time.

They'd been together a year now. A year without Ron, a year without Harry. She'd seen them now and again but they hadn't really been part of her life for the last twelve months. She couldn't help wondering if that was what the rest of her life would be like. Maybe that was what adulthood looked like for them. It seemed weird, although, not nearly as weird as their adolescence had been. She took another drag on her cigarette and then looked at it. She should really quit the bloody things, but they were such a comfort sometimes. She blew a long stream of smoke into the clear mountain air and wondered what Ron thought about the last year. It seemed like he had enjoyed life without her. He never seemed to lack for company, and by all accounts, those enchanted televisions he made seemed to be selling well. She knew money meant a great deal to him since he grew up with so little of it. She was sure he was pretty chuffed to finally have some. Perhaps all he really needed to succeed was to get out from under her and Harry. She was sad to think she might have held him back in any way. On the other hand, he'd been a total ass to her at the end and she hadn't killed him for it, so she thought she deserved some credit for that at least. She wondered if he thought about that at all. She thought not. He seemed to have pulled himself together and moved on. Good for him. Wallowing in the past was never good for anyone. She decided to forgive him for his transgressions against her. After all, hanging on to anger wasn't good either.

Viktor opened the door to the balcony. "Are you ready?"

She smiled at him. "Yes. Let's go home." She was ready. If that was what the rest of her life was going to be like, she could live with it.

_~Finis~_

Author's Note: Thank you for reading. You might also like my books: **Exposed Fury** and **One Big Beautiful Thing** , available anywhere books are sold and on all digital platforms. Enjoy!

* * *

Thank you so much for reading my story. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Leave a review and let me know what you thought. Reviews always make my day.

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: Thank you for reading. You might also like my books: The Annie Fitch Mysteries: Exposed Fury and Hidden Fury (available March 2,2021) and the stand alone novel: One Big Beautiful Thing, available anywhere books are sold and on all digital platforms. Enjoy!


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